Mine, Always
by bluecurls
Summary: He was nearly 20 years older than her. Her teacher. Her friend. Hers. She was too young. Too innocent. A student. His. Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ****Hello everyone! I'm back!**

**I really didn't plan on writing another story so soon, but I adore Remus and I started wondering what would happen if he had recognized Hermione as his mate the moment they met. How would he handle that responsibility? How will she?**

**For the sake of the story, characters I love (Sirius, Fred and Remus, of course) never died.**

**As always, I own nothing related to Harry Potter. **

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><p><em>"I trusted you," she shouted, her nostrils flaring, her face flushed. She was angry when she should have been scared, hurt when she should have been terrified. He had known she was his; he knew the minute she boarded the train, her scent calling to him before she even entered his car; but as he stared at the bushy-haired witch glaring at him, her hazel eyes flashing, he felt something than went beyond recognition.<em>

_Pride. _

_For a second, he forgot he was 32-year-old werewolf and his intended, his mate, was a 13-year-old schoolgirl. He forgot he was her teacher, her confidant. He forgot his job was to protect her, to make sure she stayed safe until she was of age and old enough to accept, to understand, all he required of her, all he wanted from her. All he could do was gape at the small girl and, for a moment, feel peace. There was so much wrong with the situation, so many obstacles they'd have to overcome, but she was for him._

_That's all that mattered._

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><p><em>"Are you crazy?!"<em>

_"No crazier than you, I suppose."_

_"She's only a girl, a child! She's Harry's best friend, Remus. You can't claim his best friend as your mate!"_

_Remus jumped to his feet, anger and frustration taking over. He pushed Sirius against the wall, his forearm pressed against his friend's neck. "Do you honestly think I asked for this? That I saw her and chose her as mine? I can't control this, Sirius. That's not how it works!"_

_Shoving away, he paced the dark study, his movements stiff as he tried to calm the wolf inside._

_"Moony …"_

_He shook his head angrily. Nothing Sirius said right now would help. He wasn't stupid. He knew the situation was wrong. She was a girl; an extremely bright and mature girl, but a girl nonetheless. _

_Sighing, he sat in an armchair, his forearms on his legs. "I don't want her, not in the physical sense."_

_Sirius sat, too, sprawling on the worn leather couch in casual stance that said more than words ever could. He wasn't scared of Remus, of Moony. He knew he had control, that while he would get angry, get frustrated, he wouldn't hurt him. "I don't understand. You tell me she's your mate, but you don't want her?"_

_"Not now. She's too young. The feelings I have for her now … they're protective. She is the most important thing to me, Sirius. It's my job to make sure she's safe."_

_He sighed. "You barely know her, Remus."_

_"That doesn't matter. She's mine."_

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><p><em>"Professor Lupin!" she shouted, her smile lighting up her face as she rushed forward, ignoring his outstretched hand and hugging him, her small arms tight around his waist. He returned the gesture, though not as enthusiastically, his eyes catching Sirius' over her head.<em>

_"Hermione," he said, carefully stepping back when she released him. "How are you? How was your summer?"_

_Her smile faded a bit. Remus felt the wolf inside shift, alert to the change of mood. "It was … it was hard being away from everyone, from Harry. My parents took me to France for a few weeks, but … they don't understand. I need to be here."_

_He nodded, understanding and fearful at the same time. She was brave, loyal; qualities he desired in the woman he'd spend the rest of his life with, but also feared. Harry was her first priority. She was his. How was he going to keep her safe?_

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><p><em>"Where's Prof – where's Remus?" Hermione asked Sirius, looking pointedly at the empty seat at the table. It was Christmas Eve and Grimmauld Place was filled with people. Harry was there, of course, and the entire Weasley clan. Everyone was thrilled Mr. Weasley was safe after an attack at the Ministry. Hermione had planned to go home for the holidays, but Dumbledore had contacted her parents, saying recent events made travel unsafe. She missed her parents, but the thought of spending Christmas with Prof – no, Remus – made her feel … well, she couldn't explain it. <em>

_"He's on a mission," Sirius replied._

_Was it her imagination or was he looking at her differently? Was he staring? Why? She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wishing the raven-haired wizard would focus his attention elsewhere. She liked Sirius. She's always liked Sirius, but she wasn't entirely comfortable in his presence. She sometimes felt like he was studying her, looking for something, she didn't know what, that he could use against her. _

_Forcing herself to nod, she ignored the quick stab of pain at the news. Remus had a mission. He was in the Order, after all – and a werewolf. If he could convince packs to join them, their numbers could help the cause. The fact that she was worried didn't mean anything. It was a dangerous time. She worried about everyone._

_"Please give him my best when he returns," she said._

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><p><em>"Hermione!"<em>

_He was frantic, his wand casting hexes, deflecting others, as he searched for her. He knew he had to help the others, to protect Harry, but he couldn't focus, not until he knew she was all right. Where was she?_

_"Remus?"_

_He didn't hear her voice, not out loud, but inside him. He caught her scent in the chaos. She was afraid. She was hurt!_

_"Hermione!"_

_He leapt to the right, avoiding a blast of green light, his eyes on the Death Eater who had his mate cornered, her small frame pressed against the wall as she stared at Antonin Dolohov._

_"Petrificus Totalus!" he shouted, hitting Dolohov, rushing to Hermione as she fell._

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><p><em>"She's going to be fine, Moony," Sirius said, his eyes wary as he studied his friend. He looked exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot, his face drawn, as he studied the pale girl in the bed. He held one of her hands in both of his. He kept one finger on her wrist, the study beat of her pulse the only thing keeping him from completely losing it.<em>

_"I was almost too late," he whispered, his voice breaking at the thought of what could have happened. As long as he lives, he'll never forget the fear that gripped him when he was contacted._

_A break-in at the Ministry. Harry. His friends. Death eaters._

_Hermione._

_"But you weren't."_

_"Sirius –"_

_"Remus. You have to stop. You want to protect her? You want to survive this fight so you can claim her as your own?"_

_"Yes," he said, his gaze never leaving her face._

_"Then you have to let go. Let go of the guilt. Let go of the fear. Let go of her. Trust that if the fates have decided she's yours, then both of you will survive to make that happen. But you can't fight and protect her at the same time."_

_Remus looked at his best friend, the other person he cared for most in the world. He almost lost him tonight. If Sirius hadn't turned at the right moment, Bellatrix's killing curse would have taken him._

_He smirked._

_"What?"_

_"Sometimes I wonder if you should have been a cat instead of a dog."_

_Sirius cocked a brow._

_"Nine lives, Padfoot. If anyone has them, it's you."_

_Sirius grinned, some of the tension lifting from their corner of Hogwarts' infirmary. "A few less now, I wager. But I promise you, I will use as many as needed to keep Hermione safe." _

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><p><em>"Watch out!" <em>

_Hermione ducked behind the stone wall, avoiding streak of red. Taking a deep breath, she jumped out again, her eye on the Death Eater focused on Ginny. She blocked the curse sent her way, casted a hex of her own, unaware that she was moving into a circle, her body drawn to another until she felt him against her back._

_"It's me," he shouted, not turning to look at the witch he knew was behind him. "Where's Harry?"_

_"I don't know," she cried, unable to see him. "I think he ran after Professor Snape!"_

_Remus nodded, filing away the anger at Snape's treachery for another time. "Hermione, you have to go!"_

_"No!"_

_"Don't argue! Get Ginny and the others and leave!"_

_"No!" she shouted, her frustration at his words empowering her to fight harder. _

* * *

><p><em>"You should have left," he told her. His voice was hard, but his touch was light as he murmured the healing spell, her injuries from the battle healing faster than they appeared. She stared at him; her eyes focused the sandy brown hair that fell over his face as he concentrated on his task. She wanted to push the hair back, to see his eyes, a warm brown that turned amber the closer he was to the full moon. Her hand was halfway up to do so when she let it fall.<em>

_What was she doing? Professor Dumbledore was dead. Snape had killed him. The entire school, the Order – everyone was in mourning. Remus had screamed when he heard the news, a tortured sound she felt in her bones. She wanted to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and take away his pain. Why was she so drawn to this man? She thought her crush would dissipate with time. Of course she was attracted to his mind, his knowledge. He remains the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor she ever had, but sometimes she looks at him and it's ... that's just it. She doesn't know what it is._

_"I couldn't leave," she murmured._

_"Why?"_

_"Harry needed me."_

_She missed the flash of anger in his eyes._

* * *

><p><em>He watched her drink the potion, her movements calm, sure, as she swallowed. Moments later, Hermione was gone and another Harry appeared. He inhaled slowly, wishing there was another way they could move the real Harry to the Burrow. She was of age now. She cared for him, he knew that. He could hear how her heart beat faster when he was near, how her senses went on alert when he walked into the room. He felt the same way.<em>

_He had for years._

_"Remus. You all right there, mate?"_

_He looked at Harry – no, George. "Right as rain."_

* * *

><p><em>"She's a vision, Remus."<em>

_He didn't answer, his eyes never straying from the witch in red as she wound her way through the crowd, her arm linked with Ron's. They came to the dance floor, the redhead said something and she laughed, pulling him forward, a mischievous look on her face. He swallowed the quick bite of jealousy that bubbled when the young wizard took her hand, placed another on her hip._

_"Down, Moony," Sirius murmured, taking a sip of his firewhiskey, the one glass he allowed himself to celebrate Bill and Fleur's wedding. _

_Remus was sober. He volunteered to stand watch all evening, his few minutes inside the tent the first and only break he planned to take. Watching Hermione was torture. The dress hugged her curves; the swish of the skirt drew attention to her strong calves. She had tamed her hair into a law knot, exposing her neck. The wolf stirred inside him, snapping. He wanted to take, to bite, to claim._

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><p><em>"Have you heard from them?"<em>

_Sirius looked up at Remus. The man had been pacing the study for an hour. It was the night before the full moon, a time when he was already on edge. Not having seen or heard from Harry – and Hermione – in months was not what he needed right now._

_"If I had, you'd be the first to know."_

_Remus nodded. He couldn't stand this. He knew she had a mission; Harry had a mission and she had to help, but not knowing where she was, what she was doing – it was torture. His head ached. His body ached. His heart ached – for her._

_"It will end soon, Remus."_

_He looked over. "The war?"_

_Sirius nodded. "That, too."_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So we're jumping forward in the story a bit, post the final battle. Hermione has technically been of age for nearly two years, but you know Remus. He can never let himself just be happy. Plus, there was that whole war thing going on. **

**Thank you for your kind words and support as I embark on a new story. I must confess I have no idea where this one is going, so we could be set for another long story like ****_Get Busy Living _****or we might have something short and sweet. Either way, I hope you enjoy it! As always, I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

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><p>"Remus?"<p>

He groaned, the pounding in his head beating in time with the fist on his bedroom door. He stuffed his face deeper into his pillow, muttering a fervent prayer to whoever listened to such things that the knocking would cease. A pause made him grin. Peace. Finally.

And then it started again.

"Remus!"

It wasn't going to stop. He wasn't going to go away. Sirius Black has been called many things in his lifetime, but patient was never one of them.

Pushing himself up on his forearms, Remus grabbed his wand off the nightstand, undid the lock, and collapsed facedown again. He felt like hell. The full moon was still two nights away, but the wolf wanted out. He was tired of waiting.

"How ya doing, Remus?"

"I _was trying to _sleep, which doesn't happen often this time of the cycle, as you know, Sirius."

The Animagus shrugged and, ignoring his friend's poor mood, crossed the room, hopped on to the empty side of the bed, and leaned against the headboard, crossing his feet at the ankles.

Remus opened one eye. "I've told you a million times, Padfoot; you're cute, but you're not my type."

He chuckled. "Oh, I know that, Moony. I'm the one who's had to listen to you, pardon the pun, _moon_ over a certain witch for five years now."

Remus groaned again, the mere thought of Hermione causing such a feeling of longing that he tried not to think about her.

Three months had passed since the end of the war. When Harry had killed Lord Voldemort, Remus foolishly, naively, believed it was his time, their time. She had hugged him the Great Hall, a hug that was full of relief that it was over, that they were all right, but also one filled with sadness for all who had fallen. He had known, as he stood there with his arms around her, his chin resting on top of her head as they leaned into each other, the pounding in his heart slowing as he breathed in the rightness that was her, that it wasn't the right time to declare his intentions.

It didn't happen over the next month, either. The dead had to be buried; their ultimate sacrifice honored. He saw her at the ceremonies, a pale figure in muted grays, one third of the so-called Golden Trio. He watched as she gripped Ron's hand, her arm around Harry. He understood, even as the wolf roared in protest, that she didn't need him now. She needed her friends. She needed time. She needed to heal. So he hunted, joining the aurors rounding up rogue Death Eaters. He spent weeks away from Grimmauld Place, returning only when he knew Hermione wouldn't be there.

"You look like hell," Sirius had said one late June evening, eyeing Remus as he dragged himself into the kitchen, a fresh collection of scars on his already tattered body.

"I don't feel much better," he said, smiling gratefully for the glass of firewhiskey placed in his hand.

"You can't keep going like this, Remus. Moony can't keep going like this."

He sipped, the burn easing the ache of his throat. He knew Sirius was right. His transformations were getting worse. The moment Hermione turned 17, it was like a switch inside him had been flipped. He still wanted to protect her – she was his mate, he would always protect her – but now he physically craved her. It took every bit of strength he had not to act on his instincts, to ignore his desire to claim her, to bury inside her until he was imprinted on her soul the way she was on his. It scared him how much the image of her on her hands and knees as he mounted her, his body pumping into hers, had thrilled him; still thrilled him.

"She's not ready," he had said.

"She's almost 19," Sirius shot back.

Remus pushed away from the table and left the kitchen.

It had been a relief when Hermione announced she was going to Australia. She had traced her parents' to Melbourne, thanks to a nosy neighbor who didn't recognize Hermione, a side effect of her obliviate memory charm, but loved to gossip and was perfectly will to share what she knew about the Grangers. He had said good bye with the others, his body tense with the effort to wish her good luck rather than pull her into his arms. He had locked himself in his bedroom for three days, sleeping off months of anxiety. Sirius forced him out of bed the fourth day, dragging him downstairs for food and outside for fresh air.

That was six weeks ago. Aside from the full moon every cycle and, lately, the days leading up to it, Remus felt nearly human again, or as human as a werewolf can claim to be.

"I heard from Harry," Sirius said.

"Hmm?"

"They're coming home."

Remus sat up. "They?"

"Harry. Ron. Hermione."

He sucked in his breath. The wolf's ears perked up. She was coming home. "Did they …?"

Sirius shook his head. Harry's note had been brief, nearly curt in its language, informing him only that they were unsuccessful and the date of their arrival. Remus sighed. He knew how powerful the obliviate charm could be. Very few wizards have been able to come back from it. The idea that Muggles could survive such magic was greater than wishful thinking, but that was his Hermione. She had to try.

"How long do I have?"

"A day. They'll be here tomorrow."

He nodded.

"You can't leave, Remus," Sirius said.

"I wasn't -"

"Don't lie to me," he said forcefully, gray eyes flashing. "You've used every excuse out there to avoid the inevitable. Hermione Granger is your mate and when she gets home, you are going to stake your claim."

"I hardly think it's your responsibility to tell me who to fuck," Remus said cooly.

"Screw you, Remus, this isn't about fucking, it's about survival," he growled. "Not being with her is killing you. The transformations are worse because you know, Moony knows, that it's time to take her, but your stupid brain won't accept what was decided years ago – and maybe even long before that. Why the hell are you so against it now when the idea of her was acceptable five years ago?"

"Because it was five years ago!" he shouted, jumping out of bed. Running his fingers through his hair, he paced, bare feet slapping against hardwood. "It was impossible! She was a child; an annoying little know-it-all!"

"And now she's still a know-it-all, but also a full-grown woman. It's what you wanted."

"But it's not what she wanted!" Remus plopped back down on the bed, his outburst making the pain in his head increase tenfold. Massaging the bridge of his nose, he forced himself to take deep breaths, to try to alleviate some of the pressure. "I've had time to get used to the idea, Sirius. I recognized her immediately, knew she was mine, but it took longer to accept it. She … she's not like me. She won't understand the finality of the situation."

"I think you're underestimating our favorite little bookworm."

"You know as well as I do the odds of a werewolf finding his mate are nearly impossible," Remus replied. "This is ancient magic, so old there's very little recorded information, more just stories passed from generation to generation."

"So tell her the stories. Explain it to her. Tell her everything you know."

"But I don't know everything! I've tried to learn as much as I can about mates, but the information isn't there."

Sirius got off the bed. It was getting late and he was tired of the conversation. "So wing it. You want her; you know she cares about you. It will be fine."

"Oh, the great Sirius Black says it will be fine? Well then it must be true."

Sirius gave him the finger, but didn't slam the door on his way out. He knew his friend was hurting. He could see it in the way he carried himself. He had put on weight, in a good way, and his face was no longer gaunt looking, but he walked like an old man, like every step was painful. Moony wanted to play. Remus was fighting him as hard as he could, but the wolf was stronger. He was going to take over and Merlin help him – and Hermione – when it happened.

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><p>She stood outside the front door, her hand posed to knock, before she thought better of it. This was her home now. She should treat it as such and walk inside as any of the other residents would do. She shoved away the memory of her parents' house, the white two-story with blue-gray shutters and wraparound porch. It was gone. Her parents were gone. She was alone. The sooner she came to terms with that, the sooner she could focus on the rest of her life.<p>

"Hello?" she called, pushing the front door open. Leaving her shoes by the entryway, she made her way down the cramped, dark hall, her nose crinkling at the musty scent that greeted her. Apparently older men were just as opposed to housework as their younger counterparts.

"Hermione!" Sirius came bounding down the stairs, sweeping the young witch up in his arms and twirling her around. "Welcome home, my girl!"

She laughed, holding on to her shoulders, grateful for his enthusiastic greeting as it overshadowed her moment of grief.

"Where's Harry?" he asked, looking over Hermione's shoulder for his godson.

"Still at the Burrow with Ginny," she replied, avoiding his eyes. "It's, um, been a while since their last visit."

Sirius chuckled but, noticing the tinge of pink on the tips of Hermione's ears, swallowed the comment he wanted to make. "Well, come on," her said, his hand on her lower back pushing her toward the staircase. "Take your things to your room and get settled while l put on the stew for dinner."

She stopped on the first step, turning to stare at the wizard with round eyes. "Stew? Don't tell me you learned to cook while I was gone?"

He laughed, his gray eyes lighting up with their familiar mischievous light. "Please. Molly Weasley, in all her well-meaning bossiness, brought it over this morning, trying to convince me, yet again, that a girl of 18 had no business living with two adult men."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure she said nothing about Harry."

"Of course not. We've already ruined that young man with our bachelor lifestyle and deviant ways." Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, he leered at Hermione. "Why do you think we want you?"

Laughing, she continued up the staircase, pleased to see her room – second door on the right – had been cleaned and aired for her arrival with fresh linens on the bed, new towels in her bathroom and a single-stemmed rose in the bud base on the nightstand. Smiling at the sweet gesture, she took her suitcase out of her pocket, used her wand to enlarge it to its normal size, and started unpacking.

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><p>He could hear her humming, her voice sweetly off-key as she moved about her room, likely putting away clothes and other personal items in the space she claimed as hers three years ago. The fact that it was directly below his bedroom was a coincidence. That's what he told himself then, that's what he tells himself now, ignoring the wave of peace that settled over him the minute she entered Grimmauld Place.<p>

Stretching, his latest attempt at napping as big a failure as the others, he got up, flicked his wand to straighten his bed and walked to his adjoining bathroom, peeling off his clothes on his way. He sighed in relief under the shower, grateful for his friend's generosity and little-known addiction to home improvement projects. The multi-head shower had revived Remus' tired, beaten body more times than he can count. Standing in the stall, the hot water pounding on his long, lean frame as the room fills with steam, he concentrates on relaxing, shaking away images of Hermione in the shower with him, her wet curls clinging to her face as he lifts her, her legs wrapping around him, ankles locks at his back, her nails digging into his shoulders as he –

"Fuck," he groaned, reaching to turn the water temperature to cold.

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><p>She was in the kitchen by the time he felt human enough to join them. He could smell her when he opened his bedroom door, a combination of lemon, ink and parchment that was distinctly Hermione. Breathing in the familiarity, he shuffled down the staircase, following the sound of muffled voices – one low, the other high.<p>

"Remus! So you decided to join us, huh?" Sirius called from his seat at the kitchen table, an expectant smile on his face. He had been waiting for this moment, to be a witness to like recognizing like.

"Remus?" Hermione turned from the stove, where she had rescued the stew from Sirius' attempts at reheating it, her last-minute intervention saving them all from a less-than-edible meal. Smiling, she turned down the heat and walked toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a friendly hug.

He returned the gesture, fisting his hands to stop himself from gripping her shoulders and pulling her closer. Ignoring Sirius' raised eyebrow, he stepped away, his body already missing the feel of her.

"I missed you," she told him.

He swallowed. "I missed you, too."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Aw, thank you everyone for your kind words about this story. I do love Hermione and Remus pairings, and it makes me so happy that I'm not alone in my totally healthy obsession! I offer you the next chapter and hope it makes your Monday tolerable. Feel free to weigh in with your thoughts, as I'm always open to suggestions (though my husband would claim otherwise).**

**As always, I do not own anything related to Harry Potter except for the silly scenarios that play out in my head when I should be doing other things. I also don't own Shakespeare's Macbeth.**

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><p>She was crying.<p>

He put down the book he'd been trying to read for the past hour and focused on the sound. It was muffled, which meant she had put up silencing charms after going to her room, but they weren't strong enough to keep him from hearing – not this close to the full moon. He was out of bed and halfway down the stairs before he stopped himself. He couldn't go knocking on her door at three in the morning. She'd want to know why and he'd have to tell the truth. He couldn't lie, not to her. Sighing, he sat on the step, his back against the wall, in a silent vigil. After an hour, he heard her give one last sniffle. Ignoring the creak in his knees, he stood and walked to the kitchen to prepare the tea he knew she'd want.

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><p>Hermione splashed cold water on her face, trying to make her eyes less puffy before going to the kitchen for tea. She knew she could erase all traces of her tears with a spell, but that seemed disrespectful to her parents. Instead, she did things the Muggle way, hoping it was enough to fool the men of the house if she happened to see any of them. This late at night, or this early in the morning, it was doubtful anyone was awake, but Sirius kept odd hours; Harry was wound up when he got back from the Burrow and then there was Remus.<p>

She sighed. He wasn't sleeping. He pretended everything was fine, that he was fine, but she saw the tension in his body, the exhaustion that sadly seemed to be so much a part of him. They had sat around the table after dinner, the Marauders telling stories to make Harry laugh and take the spotlight off her unsuccessful search for her parents, and the whole time all she wanted to do was go up to him and knead some of the strain from his body. She never wanted to take care of a person as much as she wanted to take care of Remus Lupin – not even Harry and Ron, and Lord knows how much those two needed her. She ignored her instincts, though, knowing how much her actions, no matter their intention, would affect him. He couldn't stand pity and his trust in people, especially women, was minimal. She'd hate to put any strain on their friendship, though now that she was back, she'd look into brewing a potion that could help with the aftereffects of the full moon.

Her mind in research mode, which is where she was most comfortable, she walked to the kitchen, bumping into the very person she wanted to help.

"Remus!"

His hands shot out, gripping her elbows to steady her. "Sorry, Hermione; I wasn't expecting company."

"Me, either," she replied, her eyes drinking in his draw-string pajama bottoms and ancient gray T-shirt. His feet were bare, a detail she found charming. Despite having lived at Sirius' house on and off for nearly three years, she never saw Remus dressed in anything less than trousers, shirt and socks.

She was so focused on her perusal; she missed how intently he studied her, his eyes roaming over her checkered pajama shorts, fluffy purple socks, and Quidditch World Cup T-shirt. Her hair was pulled in a loose ponytail, her eyes still puffy from her tears. He could see the exhaustion in her face – emotional and physical – and fought the urge to sweep her into his arms and take her to his bed so he could hold her, just hold her, as she slept.

Sighing, he let go and gestured for her to have a seat and then took a second cup from the cupboard. She watched as he added one lump of sugar and a bit of milk to the tea; exactly how she takes it. Six years of school with Harry and Ron and they still gave her tea the way they liked it – brewed extra strong with way too much sugar.

"Thank you," she murmured, blowing carefully on the hot liquid.

Remus suppressed a groan at the site of her pursed lips, her pink tongue testing the heat of the tea before taking a sip. "Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice raspy.

She shook her head, the movement jostling a few curls from her hair tie. "Too much traveling," she murmured, not meeting his eyes.

_Lie._

He took a chance, leaning forward to place his hand over hers. She jolted at the touch, but didn't move her hand away. "'Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.'"

Her lips turned up slightly, but her eyes stayed downcast. "Shakespeare, professor?"

"You can grieve, Hermione. I know they aren't gone, but they are gone for you and that's a loss that needs to be acknowledged, to be mourned."

That's exactly what it felt like. Her practical side knew her parents were alive and well, _safe_, living a child-free existence somewhere in the world, but her emotional side couldn't deal with the fact that she'd never see them again; that she'd never feel her mother's hugs or hear her dad call her "Pumpkin."

She turned her hand over to clasp his. "What if I made the wrong decision?"

"What? Saving their lives? Hermione, you had the biggest target on your back because you are a Muggle-born witch. If the death eaters had gotten to your family before your spell …" he stopped, threading his fingers through hers. "Doing the right thing is rarely easy, Hermione. I, for one, am in awe of your bravery."

She looked up then, tears in her eyes. For once, he embraced his instincts. Never letting go of her hand, he circled the table and pulled her into his arms, holding her as she cried.

The wolf was quiet.

* * *

><p>"What's your favorite memory about your mom?" Hermione asked. They were in the study, both of them on the couch. They had started on separate ends, but as night turned into day, they moved closer, until Remus was lying down with Hermione snuggled at his side. She fit perfectly, her body molded to his as if she was made for him, which she was. He had one arm wrapped around her waist and the other folded under his head, barely believing the greatness of the moment.<p>

He smiled at the question. "Well, she was a Muggle, like yours. She had a wicked sense of humor."

"Like yours?" she asked, her voice heavy as exhaustion set in.

"More like Sirius'," he replied, smiling at her snort of laughter. "I think there were times my dad was glad she wasn't a witch, given all the trouble she caused without the aid of magic. She took pride in the messages that came from Hogwarts whenever James, Sirius and I were caught for some misdeed or other."

He could feel her smile as she moved slightly to a more comfortable position, resting her head on his chest, the fingers of one hand absently tracing circles on the soft cotton covering his flat stomach. "How old were you when she died?" she asked.

"Early 20s."

"Do you miss her?"

"Every day."

"Does it get easier?" she whispered.

He knew what she wanted him to say: Yes. Yes, it gets easier. Yes, you will be happy again. Yes, there will come a day when you can think of your loved ones with smiles, not tears. But he couldn't lie.

"It doesn't get easier, but it gets better," he replied carefully. "Grief is a process. No two people grieve the same and there is no right way to do it, not even for you. Feel what you feel, Hermione. That's the only way you can heal."

She nodded sleepily, circling her arm around his waist as sleep overtook her.

"Thank you, Remus."

"You're welcome, Hermione."

* * *

><p>Sirius found them three hours later, their bodies nestled together, legs tangled. He was more shocked to see Remus sleeping than who he was sleeping with, but there he was, his body lax, eyes closed, breaths in tune with the young witch he held in his arms. Smiling, he shut the door, enacting a silencing charm to give the occupants quiet, at least for a bit longer. He had hoped he could sweet talk Hermione into making breakfast – she knew he loved it when she put chocolate chips in the batter – but it looked like that was going to have to wait another day.<p>

* * *

><p>She woke slowly, feeling as if she'd slept for days instead of a few hours. She could barely move, like something had her tied down, but instead of feeling trapped, she felt safe. Protected. Warm. Stretching slightly and arching her neck, the top of her head hid something hard.<p>

"Ow."

"Oh!" she lifted her head cautiously to see a pair of warm brown eyes with amber flecks watching her in amusement. "Remus, I'm sorry, I …" She moved to get off of him, but the arms that had kept her in place for the past few hours tightened, his fingers brushing against the bare skin exposed between her shorts and shirt. She shivered at his touch.

"Please don't," he whispered, his breath warm on her skin. "I haven't slept this well in … I don't know how long. Will you be so kind to stay and let an old werewolf rest a bit longer?"

"You're not old, Remus," she replied, but she lay back down, not wanting to get up either. She couldn't remember the last time she woke up feeling so restful. The months leading up to the last battle had been filled with fear, she, Harry and Ron grabbing only snitches of sleep during their search of the Horcruxes while the nights after were a combination of sorrow and terror.

He snorted. "I thought you were the smart one, Hermione."

"I am," she replied. "Sirius is several months older than you. If I agree that you're old, that means he's older and I do not want to live with an angry Sirius Black."

He chuckled, his delight in her response inciting him to kiss the top of her head without thinking, not noticing the catch in her breath at his impromptu show of affection. "You're right."

"Imagine how great this world would be if you all would remember that," she told him, ducking her head so he couldn't see the blush flooding her cheeks, but he felt it and closed his eyes with a satisfied smile.

* * *

><p>The day passed quickly. Harry and Hermione floo to the Burrow to visit the Weasleys' for lunch in attempt to make up for their lack of a proper conversation the day before. Ginny and Ron were there, and the twins, too, which Hermione was grateful for as their presence the kept conversation light.<p>

"Hermione, what are your plans now that you're home?" Molly Weasley asked, her gaze trained on the girl she considered a daughter.

"I'm not sure," Hermione replied. "I considered going back for Hogwarts to finish my seventh year -"

"Yay!" Ginny cried.

" – but now that Harry and Ron are going to begin training as aurors, I wonder what I'll be going back for."

"Take it from us, pet; the life of a dropout is amazing," George said, his brother nodding in agreement.

Molly rolled her eyes. She was proud of her sons' success, just as she was proud of all her children, but that didn't mean their decision to leave Hogwarts was right for everyone, especially Hermione.

"It wouldn't necessarily be 'dropping out,'" Hermione said. "Professor McGonagall already said I've met the requirements for graduation, as have Harry and Ron."

"Best news ever," Ron said, stuffing another bite of pie in his mouth.

"Well, dear, it's not like you have to make up your mind today," Molly said. "There's a few weeks still until the term begins and even then, I'm sure accommodations could be made to suit your needs."

Hermione nodded, almost wishing Molly would have pushed the subject and forced her to make a decision. She also received a letter from the Ministry of Magic, informing her that she could begin training as an auror, too, but she had declined. She was proud of her efforts during the war, but she was tired of fighting, but she couldn't imagine returning to Hogwarts without Harry and Ron.

What other options did she have?

**As some of know, I'm fairly new to the world of writing fan fiction, so I have a housekeeping question for you. In Doc Manager, I have all the documents for this story, plus all the chapters from ****_Get Busy Living_****. Is there are way to archive them? Or do I delete them once I know I'm 100 percent finished with a story because right now things are getting a bit unmanageable, but I don't want to lose any of my work. Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So many lovely reviews with so many lovely comments. What better way to thank you than post the next chapter? :)**

**For those keeping count, I still own nothing related to Harry Potter. Or Jane Austen.**

* * *

><p>It was nearly 5 p.m. when Hermione returned home, stepping out of the fireplace in the kitchen, giggling over something Fred had shouted to her as she was leaving the Burrow.<p>

"Happy?"

She jumped, her surprise causing a few of the packages she cradled in her arms to fall to the floor.

"Sorry, love," Sirius said, leaping up from his seat to take the remaining parcels from her arms.

"Its fine," she told him, bending down to collect what she dropped. "I think Mrs. Weasley learned a long time ago not to send anything breakable when Harry and I travel by floo powder."

"Eight years in the wizard world and the two of you stumble more often than not," Sirius chuckled.

"Hey!"

"All in good fun," he told her, setting the items on the table, poking a few of them with mild curiosity. "What did she send this time?"

"Chicken pot pie. Bread. Cookies. Oh, and several pounds of meat for Remus. She said he'll be ravenous tomorrow and wasn't sure if we had enough on hand."

Sirius nodded. "If there's a bright side to Bill's werewolf attack, it's that people like Molly Weasley have a better understanding of what Remus goes through every month."

Hermione murmured her agreement. She had seen how much the monthly transformations drain Remus. Usually calm and mild-mannered, he tended to be edgy the days leading up to a full moon. Comments or actions that he would typically make him raise an eyebrow affected him more during this time of the month. The days after, he's tired. Beaten. Practically ill. Sirius is the only one he'll see until he feels strong enough to leave his room. The Wolfsbane Potion helps. He still transforms, but the wolf doesn't take over his entire personality. He can control his more violent urges.

"Who is making the Wolfsbane Potion now that Professor Snape is ..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. After years of loathing the potions professor, Hermione still had trouble reconciling the fact that Snape was on Dumbledore's side - and Harry's side - the entire time. She carried guilt regarding her actions toward Snape and was behind Harry 100 percent when he insisted his portrait be reinstalled with the other Headmaster paintings at Hogwarts.

"Slughorn, although he'd like someone else to take over eventually. He's not as young as he once was and it's a tricky potion. I'd volunteer, but potions were never my strong suit and this isn't something I'm willing to test my skills with, given the side affects."

"You already do enough, Sirius," she told him, absently patting his shoulder as she unwrapped the food Molly had packed. "Having Padfoot around helps him."

Working together, the two put the food away, or, to be more accurate, Sirius put things in cupboard only to have Hermione come up behind him and move an item to a different location. After a few minutes, he gave up, content to sit and watch.

"Does this mean you'll be taking over food preparations?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

She kept her back to him so he couldn't see her roll her eyes. "Is this your way of pretending to ask me when we both know I'll end up doing it because you and Remus and Harry are hopeless in the kitchen?"

"Pretty much."

"I thought so," she replied, taking down two plates for dinner. She was still full from lunch - meals at the Weasley house tended to be day-long events - but she knew Sirius and Remus needed to eat before nightfall. Waving her wand, she watched as the chicken pot pie went into in the oven to warm and thick slices of brown bread were sliced on the cutting board. Without turning around, she moved the bottle of firewhiskey out of Sirius' reach and slid a glass of water and another of milk in its place.

"Why?" he asked.

"You need to be sharp tonight," Hermione told him as she prepared a tray for Remus. "Remus is on edge, more than I've ever seen. I don't want either of you to get hurt."

"Why would you say that?" Sirius asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of his voice. He knew tonight was going to be tough. The past few cycles have been horrendous, but with Hermione back in the house and Moony ready to pounce, it promised to be a long night.

"Hmm? Oh, just the way he's holding himself. He thinks we can't tell when he's keeping himself in check, but the signs are there," she said, setting a plate of food in front of Sirius. Charming Remus' tray, she levitated it so he floated several inches behind her as she left the kitchen. "Eat; I'll be back."

He nodded, his mouth already full. After he was sure Hermione was on the second floor, he reached for the firewhiskey.

"Sirius Orion Black!" She shouted, making the wizard jump in his seat.

"I'm glad she's not my mate," he muttered, dropping his hand in his lap.

* * *

><p>Hermione walked to Remus' room on the third floor, knocking twice. When there was no response, she knocked again, a little louder.<p>

"Go away, Sirius!" Remus shouted.

"It's Hermione."

A second later, the locks clicked and the door swung open. Hermione stepped in, the tray still floating behind her. She glanced around the room which, like hers, featured exposed brick on one wall, but while the rest of her room was painted a creamy white, he opted for hunter green. Mahogany bookshelves took up most of his living space, which also consisted of a large oak desk was in one corner and a comfortable armchair and stool in a deep blue fabric by the window. The door to his bathroom was slightly ajar and a small pile of clothes was in front of the wardrobe. Turning to take the tray, she carried it to the nightstand next to Remus' king-sized bed, where he sat with a book in his lap.

"What are you reading?" she asked as she busied herself with the tray.

"Oh, nothing, just …" he pushed aside the book of fairy tales, tossing a pillow over the cover. "You didn't have to bring me dinner, Hermione. I would've come downstairs."

She turned then, smiling at him. "I know, but I also know how much you try to rest before the moon rises, so why not use it to your advantage and take a meal in bed?"

He returned her smile with one of his own. "Is this your way of saying you expect meals in bed the next time you're ill?"

"You would be the one to pick up on the subtlety of that statement. Now, eat before it gets cold."

He picked up the fork, expecting her to leave, but instead she wandered around his bedroom, studying his collection of books, kneeling down to read the titles on the lower shelves.

"Feel free to borrow what you want," he told her.

"I will take you up on that," she replied, walking to the fireplace to look at the small collection of photographs he had on the mantle. There was one of his parents, another of the Order taken before the first war, a picture of Dumbledore's Army – Hermione shook her head at the state of her hair – and one more of her and Remus sitting in Sirius' study, their heads close together as they talked over a book. "I don't remember this," she said, carrying it to the bed, and perching on the side.

He looked at the photo she held out to him. "That was taken after the attack at the Ministry. You were still … "

"Out of it?"

"Fragile. I was trying to distract you from the Order meeting happening in the next room."

She studied the photograph a bit longer, smiling at the younger version of herself who leaned into Remus as he pointed to something in the book on her lap. "My personal caretaker, huh?"

He gestured to the empty tray on his lap. "That's what we do."

* * *

><p>"I don't think I can take this much longer," Harry said, his feet clomping down the stairs in frustration.<p>

Hermione looked up from her perch on the steps facing the basement door. It was just past midnight and Remus – no, Moony – had been making a racket for the better part of three hours. Both Harry and Hermione had been at Grimmauld Place when the werewolf was on the rambunctious side before, but tonight was worse than either could remember.

"I know," she replied, scooting over so Harry could sit next to her. They were quiet as they listened to the wolf's howl, the sound long and lonely. Only Padfoot's incessant barking managed to make him stop, but once he was quiet, the wolf started again.

"I spoke with Ron," Harry said. "We're more than welcome to crash there for the night."

"And you want to go, but feel bad about it."

He shifted and shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "A little."

"Harry," she placed a hand on his knee, squeezing lightly. "You and Ron have to meet with Kingsley tomorrow. Of course you need your sleep. Go. I'll explain to Remus and Sirius in the morning."

"You aren't coming?"

"No," she shook her head. "One night without sleep won't break me."

"If you're sure …" he said, standing up reluctantly.

"Go. Oh – be sure to cast a silencing charm when you sneak into Ginny's room."

He laughed, ruffling the top of her hair. "Shut it."

* * *

><p>Giving up her vigil on the steps, Hermione walked to the kitchen, using her wand to empty the cupboards, piling food and dishes on the scarred oak table. She had noticed several expired items when she was putting away Molly Weasley's food earlier. If sleep wasn't going to happen tonight, she might as well do something productive. Humming, she filled a bucket with warm, soapy water, wiping down each shelf before charming the dishes to return to the cupboards in a system that made sense to her. The food was next, with half of the items ending up in the rubbish bin. Sighing, she grabbed a spare piece of parchment and made a list of things to replace, one hand on her hip as she studied the near-bare pantry.<p>

"Hermione?"

She shrieked, dropping the parchment and quill.

"Sorry," Sirius said from the doorway. He was leaning against the door, wearing only a pair of ripped jeans. His face was pale and he had several gashes on his arms.

"What happened?" she said, taking his hand and pushing him into a chair. Dragging a second seat over, she sat, studying the injuries closely. Using her wand, she healed them quickly, rubbing her thumb absently over the deepest one near his left wrist.

"Moony," he replied. "Could you get me a glass of water, please?"

She did as he asked, swallowing her questions as he guzzled the clear liquid.

"Where's Harry?" he asked when he finished, smiling his thanks when she rose to fill it again.

"He left to sleep at the Burrow. He felt bad, but he has the meeting tomorrow and -"

Sirius waved his hand. "It's fine. Fine. In fact, it's better than fine. No questions this way."

"What do you mean?"

Sirius leaved forward, his eyes on Hermione. "I need you to come to the basement with me."

Her eyes widened.

"No! No, it's nothing bad. You'll be fine. Moony is locked in his cage, it's just … he's agitated and I think if he saw you, saw that you're all right, he'll calm down."

"Why?" she asked.

"It's not my place to say. You don't have to, of course. But I thought it might help Remus."

He knew that wasn't entirely fair, but it was the right thing to say. She rose and waited for Sirius to do the same, following him out of the kitchen without a second thought, pausing only to grab her blanket and book from the landing. Sirius had his hand on the doorknob before he turned to look at Hermione.

"I'm going to go down first and become Padfoot. You come down when I bark."

She nodded.

"Once you're down there, don't touch me. I won't let anything happen to you, but you can't acknowledge me. He won't like that."

"Should I ignore Moony, too?"

He shook his head, marveling at how easily she accepted his odd request and still managed to ask the right follow-up question. "No, look at him, talk to him. It will help. Just relax, stay calm. I'll conjure a chair for you within his eyesight but far enough away that you won't be scared. I'll settle in-between, OK? You'll be fine; I promise."

She nodded, flinching a little as she heard the crash of a heavy body against steel. Sirius opened the door and walked down the stairs. A few seconds later, there was a bark. Taking a deep breath, Hermione made her way to the basement, white-knuckling the blanket and book in her hands.

The basement was large; it ran the entire length of the house. One end was completely taken over by a steel cage Sirius had installed several years ago. The wolf sat inside, his hair on end as he watched her progress to the bottom of the steps. Ignoring the large black dog sitting in the middle of the floor, she smiled at the wolf and walked to the armchair directly opposite from the cage, though several feet away.

"Hi, Rem – Moony," she said, her voice a little higher than usual. "I'm sorry you're having such a hard night. I thought it might help you if I sat here and read for a bit, all right?"

The wolf cocked his head, as if he was considering her request. Taking that as a good sign, she settled in the chair, covering herself with the blanket. The wolf watched, unblinking, as she got settled. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Padfoot lay down on the ground.

"Would it help if I read out loud?" she asked, holding up her copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. "I'm sure this is something you're read a million times, but sometimes there's nothing like reading an old favorite, right?"

The wolf still watched, but his fur looked less ruffled. She assumed that was a good thing and opened the book to the first page. Clearing her throat, she started to read.

"'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.'"

She read aloud for nearly an hour. During that time, the black dog fell asleep and the wolf finally laid down, head on his paws, his amber eyes never straying from the chair. Hermione wished she had thought to bring a glass of water with her. She considered conjuring one, but wasn't sure how Moony would react if she took out her wand.

"Um … my throat is getting dry. Is it OK if I stop?"

The wolf whined deep in his throat. The dog sat up, growling.

"No!" she cried, forgetting Sirius' instructions to stay calm. "I'm not going anywhere; I just want to rest for a bit, OK?"

The two animals watched each other for several seconds before the dog laid down again. Taking that as an assent, Hermione settled deeper in the chair, using the armrest as a pillow. She stared at the wolf, his coat exactly like Remus' hair – even the tiny streaks of gray; his eyes a deep amber. "You're beautiful, aren't you?" she whispered. "Good night."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm so glad everyone liked Chapter 4. I hope Chapter 5 makes you happy, too.**

**NeonDomino: Thank you for the Doc Management advice. I'm totally going to do that!**

**To everyone else who left a comment - you are awesome! I love the feedback and hope this story continues to be worthy of your time. Oh, and if you know of any stories or authors I need to check out, tell me! Let's all embrace our Remus Lupin obsession! (Seriously, I saw "Red 2" this weekend and all I could think was "Hey, the guy who played The Frog is Remus Lupin. Don't hurt him!" I may have Googled him after that. I regret nothing.)**

**I am sad to tell you I still own nothing related to Harry Potter. Sigh.**

* * *

><p>"Hermione?"<p>

"Mmpf."

A hand on her shoulder nudged lightly. "Love, wake up."

She opened her eyes, confused to see Sirius' face just a few inches from her own. She sat up, her body protesting at the movement. "What …?"

"It's morning," he told her, standing up from his crouched position in front of the chair. "Let's go up and give Remus his privacy."

She peered over Sirius' shoulder and saw the cage door wide open, a pair of bare feet attached to uncovered legs lying on the floor. Blushing slightly, she looked down, gathered her blanket and book, stood and shuffled to the steps, Sirius a few steps behind her. They were silent until they got to the kitchen, Sirius taking a seat with a heavy sigh as Hermione put on the kettle for tea.

"Thank you for your help last night," Sirius said, leaning forward to rest his head on the table. He was wearing the ripped jeans he had worn the night before, but had added a ratty T-shirt, which stretched tightly over his tattooed chest. She nodded, lost in her own thoughts. He opened his mouth to say something else, but thought better of it, sipping the mug of tea she set before him gratefully.

She sat in the chair to his left, her legs curled under her, cradling her own cup of tea in her hands. "Are you hungry?"

He shook his head. "I will be later. I just want to sleep."

She nodded. "Remus?"

"He'll be out for a while yet."

Another nod.

He finished his tea, standing to put the empty cup in the sink. Walking to the door, he paused behind Hermione's chair, dropping a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it in silent gratitude. "I'll see you later?"

She nodded. He was halfway down the hall when she spoke.

"How long has Remus known I'm his mate?"

_Damn._

Turning, he walked back to the kitchen. "How long have you known?"

She shrugged, her gaze focused on the kitchen table; not him. "It wasn't that difficult to figure out; not after last night."

Taking the seat he had abandoned seconds earlier, Sirius grasped for something to alleviate the tension in the room. Hermione looked, well, not shocked, but certainly not at ease, either. He had no idea how Remus would react once he was back on his feet. He had a pretty good idea, but seeing as he didn't come out well in the scenario, he decided not to dwell on it. "I didn't want to ask, Hermione, but it's getting harder from him. With you in the house … I was worried he'd hurt himself if he couldn't see you."

"Is my being here bad for him?"

"No! He loves, _we_ love, having you here. Yesterday, when I saw you two sleeping … Hermione, I haven't seen Remus look that relaxed since we were students. You are good for him; never question that."

She nodded, still not looking at him.

"You have questions."

"Many."

"You know it's not my place to answer them."

"I do."

* * *

><p><em>When a werewolf comes across their mate they sense it. They want to be near the individual, to know everything about him or her. They want to spend time with the person. The werewolf will feel a sense of knowing, a feeling of peace, and they'll no longer feel so alone. Everything will feel right, happy, and complete when they're with their mate. <em>

The words she wrote in her essay for Professor Snape haunted Hermione as she went about her morning, taking a shower and getting dressed. When he assigned the essay on werewolves during her third year at Hogwarts, the concept of a mate, that one person that can complete a werewolf, seemed beautiful. Once she realized Professor Lupin was a werewolf, she wanted him to find his mate, if only to keep him from being alone, but never in her wildest fantasies did she consider that she would be the one to fill that role.

Turning the heat off on the stove, Hermione placed a pile of scrambled eggs on the two plates that sat on two trays, along with bacon, sausage and toast. Tea was added next, with glasses of juice and milk. Sirius had yet to come downstairs, so Hermione levitated each tray, walking up to the third floor bedrooms. She left Remus' on the floor by his door and went to Sirius' room first, knocking on the door.

"Yeah?"

She took that to mean come in and pushed open the door, smiling at the man sprawled in his bed. "You look like hell, Sirius."

"Your morning talk could use some work, love," he replied, lifting his head at the smell of bacon.

Stepping over the clothes he left on the floor, she placed the tray on his nightstand. "It's almost lunchtime; eat something."

"OK," he replied, rolling over, his bed sheets draping lower on his body. She avoided looking as he sat up; pretending delivering food to a naked man in bed was something she did every day. If he caught on to her embarrassment, he was kind enough not to say anything.

Or maybe he was hungry.

"I have a tray for Remus," she began. "Should I leave it outside his room or will you …"

"Why don't you take it to him?"

She looked over in surprise. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

He shrugged, his mouth full of eggs. Swallowing, he took a sip of juice before looking at her. "The two of you can't avoid each other forever. If it helps, I'm going to take off after this."

She nodded, but didn't move. Part of her – the sensible, analytical Hermione – knew the conversation she needed to have with Remus couldn't be avoided forever and that the sooner it took place, the sooner she would have the information she needed to move forward, whatever that entailed. Her emotional side, though, was conflicted.

Yes, she had a crush on Remus when she was a student; a crush that last longer than she was willing to admit and, if she was being honest, still flared up now and again. He was intelligent. Brave. Patient. He listened to her, really listened to her, when she spoke. He valued her opinion, her knowledge. He had a smile that made her insides melt and then there were his hands: large, strong; the scars and callouses proof of his strength.

But to be his mate?

_Often two mates are drawn to each other, which means even a werewolf that tends to be reclusive has a strong chance at finding their mate. _

"Hermione?"

She shook herself out of her reverie. "I'm sorry; what?" She looked at Sirius and was surprised to see his plate empty.

"Took a little trip, did you?"

She shrugged, her cheeks pinking slightly. Sirius gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Not to rush you, but I need to get dressed so I can get out of here, so …"

"Oh. Right." She turned to leave, her steps deliberate, stopping just before she got to the door. "How aware was Remus last night? I mean, I know the Wolfsbane is supposed to make it so Remus is in control, not Moony, but it didn't seem that way last night."

"He won't hurt you, if that's what you're worried about. Remus could never, would never, hurt you."

"I know that."

* * *

><p>"I know that," she repeated to herself, tray in hand, as she knocked on Remus' door. There was no reply after the first knock, the second. Trying the handle, she was surprised when it turned.<p>

"Remus?" she whispered, peeking inside. The curtains were drawn, but a sliver of sun shone through, almost like a beacon on the man face down in the bed. The naked man who was face down in the bed without any blankets covering his …

_Stop it._

She tiptoed in the room, setting the tray on the night stand. Grabbing the bedspread from the tangled heap of blankets at the end of the bed, she pulled it over Remus, telling herself not to look, although she did pause at the scars that spanned his back, the silvery-white lines overlapping. Pushing aside the sudden urge to trace each one with her fingers, she pulled the blanket up to his shoulders and walked to the curtains, opening them to let in the light.

"Dammit, Sirius!"

She chuckled. "I'm beginning to wonder how often he wakes you, given the greetings of the past two days."

He rolled over, his eyes bleary with sleep. "Hermione?"

"I brought you breakfast," she said, gesturing to the tray. "Well, now it's more brunch. It's probably cooled some, but I know a warming spell that should make it edible. I know you need protein after the full moon, so there's bacon and sausages and eggs. I'm not sure how you feel about carbohydrates, but they're important for energy, so there's toast and jam – a little sugar kick to get you moving."

He sat up, grateful for the blanket that covered him, and listened to her babble, the chatter more soothing than annoying. Her demeanor, though, was off. Narrowing his eyes, he watched her hands, which were clasped in front of her, the pad of her left thumb rubbing a circle in the center of her right hand. She wouldn't meet his gaze, her eyes darting everywhere but not on him.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

_Lie._

"Hermione."

She sighed and sat in his armchair, drawing her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, as if to protect herself from whatever happened next.

Snatches of last night came back to him. Feeling angry. Feeling trapped. Wanting her; needing her. He could smell her. She was so close. He looked down at his chest, the fresh bruises evidence of the times he'd thrown himself against the cage, desperate to reach her. He remembered howling, screaming. Padfoot barking. Biting. It wouldn't stop. He couldn't stop, not until she …

_No._

"Stop it," she said. Leaping up from the chair, she grabbed the tray and put it on his lap, her movements almost angry. "You need to eat and then we'll talk."

"Sirius …" his voice was low, dangerous.

"He didn't tell me anything. I figured it out on my own."

The urge to fight left as quickly as it came. He looked down, waiting for the shame he expected to feel, was prepared to feel, at this moment.

"Remus. Remus, look at me."

He did. He couldn't decipher the expression on his face, but it wasn't fear. It wasn't disgust. She looked apprehensive, a little uncertain, but also empathetic.

"I know this is probably not the scenario you had in your head when you imagined this conversation."

He shook his head, not able to find the words to make things better, if that were even possible.

"And I'm sure there's a lot you want to say, but you're feeling a little exposed, for lack of a better word, at the moment."

He blushed, but nodded.

"You've had a rough night. Eat breakfast, take a shower and come downstairs. I'll either be in the kitchen or the study, but I'm not going to go anywhere until we talk. And don't think about killing Sirius; he left for the day and Harry is gone, too."

There's that know-it-all witch he watched grow up. For some odd reason, her bossiness made him feel a little better. He nodded, watching as she took her wand, said a quick spell to heat his breakfast, and left the room.

**Sorry to leave this one a bit of a cliffhanger. I'm fighting a cold and my head feels about three sizes big right now, so rather than push through and write the confrontation scene that likely won't be as great as it should be, we've got a bit of a filler to tide you over. Part of me is not loving how weak Remus seems in this scene, but when you think about it, it makes sense. He's had a long night. He's actually had a rough couple of years, denying himself, and here comes the person that's essentially making his life hell, looking fresh while he feels like crap, and she knows his secret. Oh, and he's naked. So yeah, not how he pictured it. :) Don't worry; he'll be on his game the next chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Leafey - you make me laugh! You say you wait impatiently for updates. I wait impatiently for your thoughts on them. I can't wait to read your Hermione/Remus story!**

**All the other amazing people who read and review, here you go! Remus has gathered himself and is ready to be calm and rational. Hermione, though ... well, read, enjoy and review! **

**As always, I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

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><p>She wanted to stomp down the stairs, but the rational voice in her head – and there was a small part of her that still knew how to be rational – said to do so would be childish, so she walked. She walked down the stairs, down the hall and entered the kitchen, where the site of Sirius' breakfast dishes washed and put away – he never did that – made her grab a cup and throw it against the wall in frustration.<p>

Feeling oddly better, she flicked her wand to clean up the shards of glass. She then dragged a chair to the counter, using it to boost herself up to the highest cupboard. It was a well-known fact that Remus had a chocolate addition. It was true the sweet food could make you feel better after a dementor attack, but his consumption went beyond magical reasons. After months of his chocolate being eaten by the residents of Grimmauld Place, he started hiding stashes throughout the house. Harry, Ron and Sirius had discovered most of them – the obvious ones Hermione was fairly certain he used to keep them off the trail of his real hiding spots.

Hermione didn't think anyone besides Remus knew of the collection of chocolate he had stashed inside the old cauldrons stored in the kitchen's highest cupboard. Not able to see in the cupboard, even when standing on her tiptoes, she felt around, her hand brushing against one bar. She debated leaving it for Remus but decided she needed it more. Hopping down, she took the chocolate and a glass of water to the study to await his arrival.

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><p>He felt better after eating. He was glad she left, as he was sure his table manners would have sent her running otherwise. Putting the tray back on the nightstand, he stood and stretched, mentally cataloguing every new ache and pain. Surprisingly, there weren't as many as there was a month ago. He was prepared for Hermione's presence in the house to have a negative impact on Moony, at least until Remus talked to her about their situation, but perhaps Sirius had the right idea, letting her into the basement last night – not that he was letting his friend off the hook. They'd <em>talk <em>when he got home.

Walking to his bathroom, he took a shower, Hermione's words still ringing in his ears. She knew. She knew she was his mate. He wasn't aware how much she knew beyond that, but that fact that the news didn't result in her taking up the Weasleys' offer to live with them had to be a good thing. Hermione was a smart witch, a practical woman, an adult. They would sit and discuss the situation as grown-ups and he would ignore his desire to go downstairs, throw her over his shoulder and haul her to bed.

He had to if this was ever going to work.

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><p>Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip as she studied her list of questions. She was pretty sure other people in her situation might simply yell "Are you crazy?" and be done with it, but she wanted to have a reasonable conversation with Remus, and get the answers she needed. To do both, she needed a list.<p>

"Hi."

She looked up, the object of her frustration standing in the doorway, wearing khaki trousers and a blue button-down shirt, untucked. His feet were bare again and he held his breakfast tray in his hands.

"I'm going to put this in the kitchen and get something to drink. Can I get you anything?"

She shook her head, holding up her nearly full glass of water in response. He nodded and continued to the kitchen. She heard the dishes clink together as they were washed, ducking her head when a cupboard opened, then slammed close.

"Looking for something?" she asked when he returned to the study, taking a seat on the other end of the couch. She held up the chocolate bar, her face a picture of innocence.

He grinned. "I wondered who knew about that spot."

She split the rest of the candy in half, leaning over to hand him his share. Her fingers grazed his during the exchange, sending a quick burst of pleasure to her stomach. She returned to her seat, schooling her features to be relaxed, while he took a bite of the chocolate, his gaze never leaving her face.

"So …" she started.

"You have questions."

"And then some."

He nodded. "Do you want to go first or should I start talking?"

"I would like to go first, if that's OK?"

He nodded again, turning sideways so he was facing her. Hermione did the same, looking down at her list even though she had every question memorized.

"How long have you known that I'm your mate?" she asked in a no-nonsense voice despite the trembling of her hands.

"Since before I saw you on the train."

Her mouth dropped open. "That long?"

He nodded, looking somewhat guilty.

"Before you saw me?"

"I caught your sent before you and Harry and Ron entered the train car."

"What if we hadn't?"

"Then I would have gotten up and followed the scent."

She let that sink in. He watched her look down at her list and bite her lip, his answer obviously throwing her off her plan a bit. He let her regroup, taking a minute to study her and reassure himself that she was OK after last night. Dressed in hunter green shorts, white tank top and gray hooded sweatshirt, she looked … beautiful. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, although plenty of curls had escaped, which she kept pushing away from her face in frustration.

"So I smell?"

He brought himself back to her, snorting at the question, stopping when he saw her mutinous expression. "Sorry. No, you don't smell. You have this … scent that is uniquely yours. It's not bad. In fact, it's my favorite scent in the world. The first time I smelled it, I felt something inside me slide into place and click, like everything I'd done up to that moment was so I could be there, in that train car, waiting for you."

"Did you know I was –"

"A student?"

She nodded.

"No, not until I saw you."

She cocked her head to the side, her eyes never leaving his. "What did you think then?"

He paused, not wanting to say the wrong thing. "I was … surprised. Hermione, you have to understand that the chances of a werewolf finding his mate aren't great. I had been alone for so long, isolated, I figured it wouldn't happen, so to recognize the scent and feel complete, it was a miracle."

"Only I was 13."

"But that didn't change anything. You were still mine. I knew that, but the feelings I had for you then, they were … not parental, but protective. It was automatic; my sole purpose in life was to keep you safe - which wasn't always easy, I might add."

She smiled, thinking of all she – and Harry and Ron – had done that year and the years that followed.

"But you left Hogwarts," she said, her brows furrowed in confusion. "If you wanted to protect me, why didn't you stay?"

"Do you really think I still wasn't keeping an eye on you? I had my ways."

She couldn't explain the spread of warmth that went through her at his words; the same warmth she felt when he called her his earlier. She looked down at her parchment. "How long has Sirius known?"

He looked surprised, like he was prepared for something more difficult. "Um … probably a few months after I figured it out. He helped keep an eye on you, too."

"Did you tell him?"

"I've known him more than half my life, Hermione. He knew."

"What did he think?"

"Probably what you're thinking – that I'm crazy. It wasn't easy for him to understand. He heard the word mate and he thought … um, well … _mating_," he said, blushing slightly. "Once I made him realize that wasn't my intent at that time, he was better."

"So, being your mate. What does that mean, exactly? That you want to make sure I'm safe?"

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Yes and no. I want to you safe. Your safety remains my top priority, but I also want to be with you. I want to know everything about you. I want to know what makes you happy, what makes you sad. I want to be the one who comforts you when you're hurt, who laughs with you when you're happy. I want to fall asleep with you at night and wake up with you in the morning."

"Sex, then."

There it was. He wondered when she'd circle to that. Looking at her dead on, he nodded. "That's part of it, of course. I know you're mine, but once we consummate the relationship, if we do, then the connection will be deeper. It's likely you'll feel how I feel now."

"But you don't know?"

He shook his head. "There's not a lot of information about this. It's not as if werewolves are lining up to share their stories and any I've met that were lucky enough to be with their mate … it felt too intrusive to ask questions."

"You want to sleep with me?"

"Yes."

"I mean sex, not sleeping."

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Since your 17th birthday."

"_That long?_"

He nodded.

"Why didn't you?"

"Well, there was a war going on," he said wryly. "I knew if I started a physical relationship with you, there's no way I'd be able to let you go. I wouldn't have been able to stand back when you left with Harry and Ron to find the Horcruxes. The final battle … just knowing you were in that castle somewhere was bad enough. If we had been intimate, neither one of us would have been safe."

That made sense. He knew she had a job to do and he respected that. That was one of the reasons she admired him so much, but what about after the war?

"You weren't ready," he told her.

"Excuse me?"

"You were going to ask me why I didn't do anything after Harry defeated Voldemort. You weren't ready."

"Or maybe you weren't," she retorted.

"That, too."

She wasn't prepared for that response. "Don't you want me?"

The look on his face was fierce. "I want you more than I want my next breath," he practically growled. "If you knew the thoughts going through my head, the thoughts that constantly go through my head, you'd leave. It is not easy controlling myself, to not give into my instincts, but I do it because I have to."

She scooted closer on the couch. "And if I didn't want you to control yourself?"

He looked down at her, surprised and apprehensive. "What are you saying?"

She shrugged. "You want me. I'm your mate. I've had a crush on you forever -"

"You have?"

She nodded, moving forward until she was seated in front of him. Bringing her hands to his chest, she played the buttons on his shirt, enjoying his quick intake of breath as she slid one button free, slipped her hand inside to brush against his chest. "So, why don't we?"

"You want to have sex?"

She nodded.

"Now?"

Another nod.

His arms gripped her shoulders. "You don't know what you're asking for, Hermione. Right now, you can walk away. I haven't touched you. You still have a chance at a normal life."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"If you don't …"

"Claim you."

"Right. If you don't claim me, what happens to you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know; probably what's been happening."

"So you'd hurt yourself. You'd let Moony take his frustrations out on you," she said in a disgusted voice.

The words from her essay came back to her. _Finding one's mate is an easier process when the werewolf has connected with themselves; they know who they are and are comfortable in their skin._

"You still haven't accepted the fact that you're a werewolf?"

He stood up, stalking around the room. She watched as he paced in attempt to control himself as he considered his next statement. Walking to the fireplace, he turned to face her, his arms crossed, his gaze fierce. "Don't psychoanalyze me, Hermione."

She jumped up, too. "Why shouldn't I? I'm sitting here, considering whether or not I want to spend the rest of my life tied to you because of some mystical bond we supposedly have -"'

"There is no supposedly. You're mine."

" – and you're telling me the reason for this bond, your lycanthropy, is still something you haven't dealt with." She marched until she was right in front of him, their difference in height making it difficult for her to look imposing when she was a foot short than him, but her face was fierce. "Remus John Lupin, you are a werewolf! You've been one for 35 years and you'll be one for the next 135, although that could be shorter if you insist on pissing me off!"

He grabbed her, pulling her toward him, his lips crushing hers. Gasping, she wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to get closer. She felt ... she felt amazing. He groaned, pressing closer, wanting to bury himself inside her and never come out. He forced himself into her mouth, his tongue dueling with hers. She responded by wrapping one leg around his waist, rubbing herself against him, her moan making his blood boil.

"Hermione," he whispered, breaking away to kiss his way down her neck, nibbling at her jaw. He licked where her neck met her collarbone, a spot that made her shiver.

"Remus … please."

"What, darling? What do you want?"

She hitched herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He stumbled back a step, but didn't let her fall, his hands settling underneath her ass to boost her higher so she was eyelevel with him.

"I want you," she said, kissing him lightly. "I want you so much. Please."

He shook his head. "We haven't … sweetheart, there's so much we need to talk about ... you don't know what you're saying."

She laughed, grabbing his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "When have I ever not known what I'm saying?"

He opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it and kissed her instead.

**CLIFFHANGER! I'm sorry! But hey, Remus is awesome again so that's good! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Never fear, dear readers! Here's the scene we've been waiting for. If you are under age 18, stop reading. If you are over, enjoy!**

**j-jip: Thank you! I'm glad you agree that Remus would hide his chocolate stash. I think living with Sirius, you'd have to do things like that.**

**pianomouse: What a sweet thing to say; thank you!**

**Nelly Hyuga, mousekitten, Icelynne, and headyTeamEdward: I know! Cliffhangers are the worst! Sorry!**

**ThatShotgunGirl, Sampdoria and LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL: Thank you for your kind words!**

**Grove26: Thank you! I didn't want Sirius to be the player he tends to be in most fanfics, so I love that you like the dynamic he has with Hermione in this story.**

**arabellagrace: Yes! Babies! Can you imagine what their babies would look like? And so smart!**

**Leafey: You know me. I love dominant Remus. Here's hoping he meets your standards!**

**To be official, I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

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><p>Hermione couldn't stop kissing him. She'd been kissed before. There was Viktor Krum fourth year, a few snogging sessions with Ron, and an unfortunate incident under the mistletoe with Neville Longbottom, but none of those experiences prepared her for kissing Remus Lupin. The minute his lips touched hers, she felt desire, a need in her belly that she couldn't imagine would ever be filled. She wanted to get closer to him, to crawl over him, to pull him on top of her. She was in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locked, her hands gripping the back of his head as her tongue dueled with his, and it wasn't enough.<p>

"Hermione," he gasped. "We need to …"

She ran her tongue down his throat, loving the sound he made as he arched to give her better access. She buried her face in his neck, sniffing the pine scent that always seemed to be part of him. Pine and chocolate. That was Remus.

"Please …"

He shifted, turning so her back was to the wall. Pressing her against it, he was able to free one hand to grip her chin, forcing her to look at him. She was gorgeous. She eyes were dark with desire, her lips bruised from his kisses. Curls were wild around her face.

"Be sure," he told her. "There's no going back from this."

"I'm sure," she said, tightening her grip on his head to pull him forward, but he resisted.

"I mean it, Hermione," his voice harsh. He increased his grip on her chin. "If I have you, that's it for me. For you. I won't let you go."

He waited for his answer; barely holding on to what little control he had left. She felt amazing in his arms, under his hands. He wanted to touch every inch of her, kiss every inch of her. He wanted her more than he ever thought possible. If she walked away, he would die. He'd let her go, but he'd never be complete.

"Remus," she said, her hold on his head loosening. Running her fingers through his hair lightly, she smiled. "I don't want you to let me go."

That was enough for him. He released her chin, her ass, and let her slide down his body. She looked at him, confused, and then laughed as her swept her into his arms, planting kisses all over her face as he left the study.

"I can walk," she cried as he took the stairs two at a time.

"I know, sweetheart. I've seen you do it."

"You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Are you calling me old, little girl?" he growled.

She leaned forward and nipped his ear. "Never," she whispered. "Hurry up, will you?"

He sprinted to the third floor and kicked open his bedroom door, the old wood barely slamming against the wall before he kicked it shut. Three large steps and they were by his bed, Hermione looking at him with wide eyes. "I've dreamed about this for so long," he whispered, laying his forehead against hers. "All I want to do is make you happy. Tell me what to do, sweetheart. Tell me and I'll do it."

She smiled, tracing his lips with her fingers, giggling when he nipped her. "Kiss me."

He did, gentler this time. He sat on the edge of his bed, cradled her in his lap and kissed her, putting everything he was, everything he ever would be, in that kiss. He whispered her name, his hands weaving through her hair as he pulled her closer. Standing again, he twisted so he could lay her on the mattress, sliding her up until they were both on the bed, his body over hers. He kissed her feverishly, sinking into her mouth, branding her. Shifting to raise the upper half of his body, he balanced his weight on his forearms so he could look at her.

"What do you like, sweetheart? How do you like to be kissed, to be touched?" he whispered, against her lips. "Tell me."

She raised her head to kiss him again. "I don't know; just touch me."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. "You don't know?"

She shook her head, her cheeks turning red, but she didn't break his gaze. "I've never done this."

He took a deep breath, his entire body shaking as he let it out. "You're a virgin?"

She nodded, biting her lip, her expression worried. "Is that OK?"

He wrapped his arms around her, rolling until he was on his back and she was above him. He nudged her shoulders until she was sitting up, her knees on either side of his waist, his length pressed against her heat. "Sweetheart, it is more than OK. It is amazing, more than I can ever ask for." Sliding the sweatshirt off her body, he tossed it across the room and slowly ran his hands up her arms, smiling as she trembled. He ran his hands down again, gripping her waist and he moved beneath her, pushing up as he pressed her body down.

"Oh God," she breathed.

"See what you do to me?" he asked, doing it again. "I am in a constant state of arousal around you. I see you and all I can picture is bending you over the closest piece of furniture and sliding into your wet heat. I'd go so deep, Hermione. I'd hammer into you until your voice is raw from screaming."

He kept moving as he talked; slow, shallow movements, his grip on her waist loosening as she found the rhythm, her hands braced in his chest, eyes closed, lips parted, and she gently rode him. He ran his hands up her tank top, his palms sliding over her breasts, his groan matching hers.

"Can I take this off?" he asked, his hands at the bottom of her tank top. She nodded frantically, still moving, and he whipped it off, his fingers unclasping her bra, tossing that aside, too. "Oh, baby. You are so beautiful." He raised himself up to take one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently, never breaking tempo even as her movements became faster, frantic.

"Do you feel it building?" he whispered against her breast. "That ache that starts in the stomach and spreads throughout your body? It's going to feel so good when you let go, baby. Once you do, I'm going to flip you over, slide those tiny shorts down your legs, rip off your knickers and lick you. I'm going to put my tongue on you and lap up every inch of your sweetness until you come again."

"Remus …" she moaned.

"Do you want that, sweetheart? Do you want to feel my tongue on you? In you? I'll show you want I want to do to you and after you come, I'm going to flip you again, bring you to your knees and take you, pounding into you until you don't know where you end and I begin. I'm going to take you, Hermione," he repeated fiercely, switching to her other breast. "I'm going to take you, fuck you, brand you, claim you. You. Are. Mine."

She screamed, her body breaking into a million pieces at his words, pleasure overtaking her. She was trying to catch her breath, to understand what just happened, when she felt him move over her, remove the rest of her clothes and his. She barely got a chance to appreciate his body when his head was between her legs, his tongue on her.

"Oh God!" she cried, her hands grabbing his head. She couldn't believe what he was doing, how good it felt. His tongue lashed at her clit, not giving her time to come down from the heights he'd brought her to moments before. She wanted. Oh, how she wanted, her hips moving in time with his tongue, gasping as his tongue slid inside her.

"You taste so good, baby," he murmured. He shifted, nudging her legs further open with his shoulders, sliding a finger deep inside her as his tongue continued to explore her folds. "You are so tight, sweetheart. Soon I'm going to slide inside you, feel your heat around me, feel you as you come."

She gasped, his words making something inside of her tighten. She wanted to move away. It was too much, but she couldn't. It felt so good.

"You're almost there, baby, just a little bit more." He circled her bundle of nerves with his tongue, pulling it gently into his mouth as he curled his finger inside her, the simultaneous movement making Hermione scream again, her upper body coming up off the bed before slamming back down. Remus licked her softly through her orgasm, his movements designed to soothe, relax, as he slowly worked his way up her body, licking, kissing. "You are gorgeous," he whispered against her lips. "I could watch you come all day, all night."

She brushed her hair out of her face, her arms heavy. "Remus …"

"Hmm?" He nibbled her ear lobe, his tongue darting out to trace around the rim.

"I want you."

He kissed the tip of her nose. "I want you, too."

She grabbed his face, drawing on what little energy she had left to hold him still. "I. Want. You. Inside. Me. Right. Now."

He grinned, the expression on his face reminding her that he was a marauder. "Your wish, sweetheart."

Diving in for one more kiss, he backed off her, bringing her body up until they were both kneeling on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss, his hands roaming all over her back, sliding down her ass, dipping into her heat.

"Remus!"

Laughing, he turned her around, helping her to her hands and knees. Moving behind her, he pushed her hair to one side and leaned down, his mouth to her ear. "Last chance," he whispered, hoping she wouldn't say no. The wolf was pawing, impatient, screaming at him to take her. Now!

"Fuck me," she replied.

With a shout, he slid into her, the penetration making Hermione gasp, her eyes filling with tears. It was too much, she was too full. He wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her in place, as he leaned over her, his other hand balancing his body. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I'm sorry. Breathe, baby."

She could feel him tremble as he held himself still, giving her a chance to get used to him. The pain disappeared as quickly as it came. She forced herself to relax, shivering as his hand around her waist moved lower, brushing lightly against her folds.

"OK?" he whispered, pulling back slightly.

She nodded, groaning as he pressed forward.

"Again?"

"Yes," she breathed, closing her eyes. His fingers continued to play lightly as he slowly moved in and out of her. She pushed back the next time he pushed forward, loving his groan.

"You're killing me …"

She did it again, gasping as his fingers pressed into her heat.

"More," she demanded.

He moved faster, harder, his fingers dancing around her, teasing the bundle of nerves. She could feel the pressure building again, could feel how tight Remus was holding himself, his gasping breath in her ear the only sign that he was holding back, determined to give her pleasure first.

"Harder," she groaned, gasping as he complied, the hand that wasn't touching her gripping her shoulder to hold her in place. She could hear the slap of their bodies as he moved, no – pounded. His control, the control he was always so careful to hold on to, was slipping. She wanted that. She wanted him out of control.

"Now!" she yelled. "Remus, fuck me now!"

That did it. With a growl, his fingers dove into her pussy, immediately setting her off. She gasped, stars exploding behind her eyes as he ground into her. He let go of her shoulder, his upper body over hers as he moved, his mouth on her neck. She felt him lick the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, felt him nibble, but she didn't feel him bite. He did, though, breaking the skin as he came inside her, his seed pouring into her until he was empty. He collapsed on top of her, completely spent, the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears. Sliding his hands up her arms, he laced his fingers through hers, shifting until they were on their sides, his body wrapped around her.

"I love you, Hermione Granger," he whispered in her ear, pulling her closer, tossing one leg over both of hers. "I will always love you."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am so, so happy all of you liked the last chapter. Writing love scenes can be a challenge at times. Are they just doing the same thing over and over again? Is Remus being Remus? Would Hermione be shy or would she be the kickass girl we all know and love.**

**This isn't the morning after scene, but a few hours later. Enjoy! **

**I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

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><p>They slept.<p>

The sun was still shining when Hermione stirred, but hours had passed, hours in which neither had moved, their fingers still laced together, Remus' arms around her, one leg over her two, effectively pinning her in place. She tried to shift, but she was no match for him, his baggy clothes camouflaging sinewy muscles she didn't know he had. She had missed her opportunity to study him earlier, Remus so intent on bringing her pleasure, making her feel good, she felt like she was more along for the ride than an active participant. Not that she thought he would complain. Judging by the way he had collapsed on top of her, he enjoyed himself, too – a thought that made her smile in satisfaction.

"I can hear the wheels turning," he mumbled from behind her. "What's going through that brain of yours?"

She shifted again and this time he let her. She rolled over to face him, smiling at the relaxed look on his face.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he whispered back, kissing her forehead. He brushed her hair back from her face, his gaze intent as he looked at her. "Are you OK?"

"Never better," she answered honestly. "You?"

He smiled, looking years younger. "I don't have the words."

"Really?"

"Really," he told her, moving so he was lying on his back, his arm bringing her with him so she was tucked into his side, her head on his chest. She trailed her fingertips through the light brown hair that covered his chest, tapering to a V down his body. She followed the trail with her fingers, her movements slowing on the way down.

"Is it OK if I …"

He looked at her, a tender expression on his face. "I'm yours, sweetheart. You can do anything you want."

She blushed, but continued her exploration, smiling at his sharp intake of breath as her first touch. Wrapping her hand around him, she brushed a finger over the tip, remembering what it felt like to have him inside her, to feel him lose himself in her body.

"Oh!" she cried, sitting up.

"What?!" He sat up, too. "Are you hurt? What is it?" He ran his hands over her arms, looking for something to explain the panicked look on her face.

"We just … I didn't say anything … are we going to …" She didn't know how to word it.

He exhaled, relieved. "No. You aren't going to get pregnant."

"How do you know?"

"I said the spell."

She nodded, feeling so much better. Not that she doesn't want kids, but that was someday. Someday far, far into the future.

"OK now?" he asked, lying down again.

"Mmm-hmm," she replied, her eyes taking in the man before her. Long, lean. She could see the definition of his muscles on his chest, his stomach. His arms – no wonder she couldn't get out of his grip. And his legs. She ran her hand down one, smiling when he jerked his foot away.

"Ticklish?" she grinned.

"Don't even," he growled.

Tucking that piece of information away for another day, she resumed her exploration. "It's not fair," she told him.

"What's not fair?" he asked, his arms behind his head, eyes closed, perfectly at ease with his naked body. Hermione loved the small smile that played on his lips, leaning forward to kiss it lightly.

"You. How can you eat as much as you do and look like this?"

"Werewolf thing."

"Hmm. I'd embrace being a werewolf for that alone."

He didn't respond, the conversation obviously not one he wanted to have at the moment. She filed that away for later, too.

She crossed her legs, well aware that she was sitting on Remus' bed without a stitch on and didn't feel an ounce of embarrassment. She thought she would. She expected to, but he was hers. He said so himself. She couldn't imagine being shy in front of someone who planned on spending the rest of his life with her.

"Are you tired?" she asked him.

"A little."

"Are you hungry?"

"A lot."

"All right," she crawled over his body to get off of the bed, reaching for his discarded shirt on the floor and pulling it on. He opened one eye.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get us something to eat."

He sat up. "I can get it."

"There's no need," she said, buttoning a few of the buttons, leaving the rest undone, not missing the look of approval he gave her, the end of his shirt just barely grazing the tops of her knees. Leaning forward, she kissed the tip of his nose. "I'll be right back."

He watched her walk out, part of him wanting to grab her, pull her back to bed and make love all over again. He had no idea how responsive she'd be; how her moans and sighs would make him feel. The fact that she is – _was_ – a virgin made everything that much better. He would be the only one to ever have her that way. To ever slide inside her, to hear those tiny breaths she takes before she lets go, to watch her face as she comes.

He sat up, looking ruefully at the clothes tossed around his room, the blankets pulled up from the bed, but he didn't pick them up, reaching only for his boxers, sliding them on. If he had his way, neither one of them would be dressed much longer.

* * *

><p>Hermione loved Molly Weasley. She forgot about the sandwich meat the woman had sent home with her yesterday, but discovering roast beef, ham and turkey in the refrigerator was a blessing. She made a turkey sandwich for herself, then one of each for Remus, piling all of them on a plate with a bowl of grapes and an orange. Adding "fresh fruit" to the grocery list she started last night, Hermione filled a pitcher with water, added it and two glasses to the tray, and carted everything upstairs.<p>

"You know you can use magic," Remus said as she carefully made her way to the bed, the weight of the tray making her arms shake with effort.

"I know," she replied, smiling gratefully as he took the tray, crawling over him again to reclaim her earlier spot. "But sometimes it means more to do things the Muggle way. I can't explain it."

He smiled at her. "You don't have to."

They were quiet as they ate, Remus leaning against the headboard, Hermione sitting cross-legged by his legs, one hand resting on his knee, a casual gesture she wasn't even aware of but made him ... He wasn't lying earlier when he said he didn't have the words. All he knew was that this moment, right now, was worth the years of loneliness, the years of pain. She was everything he ever imagined and more.

"I could get used to you bringing me meals in bed," he told her after finishing the second sandwich.

"Don't," she laughed. "If I start doing it for you, Sirius and Harry are going to …"

She trailed off, her face wary. He sighed. He had wondered when the real world was going to intrude. Putting the plate on the nightstand, he waited for her to speak.

"Sirius knows," she said.

"He does."

"He's going to know what we did."

"Probably. I imagine he left hoping for this."

She blushed. "What will he say?"

"Nothing; not unless we want him to. Hermione, Sirius would never say or do anything to embarrass you. He understands this, more than you realize, and he wants me, _us_, to be happy."

"What about Harry? Ron? The Weasleys? Professor McGon -"

He leaned forward, placing his finger on her lips. "Let me just stop you there and say 'What about everyone who's ever known us,' all right?"

She nodded.

He gathered her in his arms, pulling until she was sitting on his lap, smiling as she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. Brushing her curls back, he pulled on his shirt until his bite mark was exposed. "Some people will understand, some will need time," he told her, tracing it lightly with one finger. "I wish I could tell you everyone will be happy, but I doubt it. I'm 20 years older than you -"

"Nineteen," she corrected.

"Nineteen," he conceded. "I was your teacher -"

"Years ago," she interrupted.

"Years ago," he agreed in a slightly exasperated voice.

He leaned forward to lick his mark. "I'm not worthy of you," he said quietly.

"I don't agree," she murmured, linking her hands behind his neck, her fingers playing with the ends of his hair, arching her neck to give him better access, sighing as his licks became kisses. "You are very, very worthy of me, Remus Lupin."

"You think so?"

"Well … perhaps you need to convince me -"

She shrieked when he flipped her to her back, his body settling over hers.

"You were saying?" he asked, pressing his cock into the apex of her thighs, smirking as she sighed.

She dug her heels into the bed, raising herself to meet his thrusts. "You talk too much," she replied, bringing his head down to hers.

* * *

><p>"Ohmigod!"<p>

"What?" he called from his bed.

"Your bathroom!" She turned in a circle, taking in the room that was nearly the size of her bedroom. The shower could fit three people easily, with multiple showerheads to reach each of those people easily, but it was the hot tub on the other end that had her mouth hanging open in shock. "How have I not known this existed?"

A pair of arms circled her waist. "You think you and Harry are the only ones Sirius spoils?"

"Not like this!"

He chuckled, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before walking to the tub to start the water.

"If I had known he was willing to do this, I would have asked for more than bookshelves in my bedroom," Hermione told him.

"He redid your bathroom, too," Remus told her, sinking into the warm water. Crooking his finger, he waited for her to join him, sighing as she settled in front of him, her back against his chest.

"Not like this," she repeated, closing her eyes on a contented sigh. "I'm using yours from now on."

"What's mine is yours, sweetheart."

"About that …"

"Yes."

She sat up, turning to face him, touching the mark on her skin. It didn't hurt; not really. It didn't even scab over despite happening just hours ago, instead healing into a pale white scar several shades lighter than her skin. "This is your mark."

He touched it, feeling that familiar wave of possessiveness that washed over him every time he touched her. "Yes."

"Does this mean I'm claimed?"

"It does."

"So the whole 'No going back' thing …"

"It's no longer an option, Hermione," his voice wasn't harsh, but it was fierce. "We're linked, you and I. I'm yours, you're mine. That will never change. Are you … are you OK with that?"

She smiled, suddenly looking shy. "Earlier, before we fell asleep, you said you loved me."

"I did. I do."

Moving forward until she was perched above him, she kissed his forehead, the tip of his nose, the lobe on one ear and then the other. "Then I'm OK," she whispered before settling her lips over his in a gentle kiss. She wasn't ready to say the words back, not yet, but she knew she loved him. Her teenage infatuation, her admiration – none of it compared to the feelings she had coursing through her now. All she wanted was to be with him, to touch him, to make him happy. If she wasn't so sore …

"Screw it," she muttered, lifting herself up and impaling herself on his cock. Her hands gripping his shoulders, her fingernails leaving marks on his skin, as she moved, ignoring the water that splashed on the floor.

"Baby," he groaned, his head thrown back, eyes hooded as he watched her rise over him. "Sweetheart, you have to be sore."

"Don't care," she said, rising up. "You can either join me, Remus, or -"

He didn't let her finish her sentence, leaning forward to kiss her roughly. His hands gripped her hips, his grip adding to the bruises that were already there. She hissed, in pleasure, not pain, and kept moving.

"Ride me, sweetheart. I want to feel you find it, feel you grip me before you come all over my cock," he told her.

She moaned, eyes closed, his words bringing her that much closer to release. She raised, she lowered. She could feel the fluttering in her stomach. She was close, so close.

"Remus …"

"What do you need?"

"Ah … touch me … please."

He slid one hand to the wet curls between her legs, his fingers quickly finding the bundle of nerves pulsing. Rubbing it softly between two fingers, he leaned forward to lick one nipple.

"Harder," she pleaded.

"Not yet," he whispered, switching to her other nipple.

She groaned, her legs shaking as she tried to keep her rhythm. Three times. Three times he's taken her, each time his strength, his stamina outlasting her. Dammit, she was going to break him this time!

"You feel so good," she murmured. "I love feeling you hard cock inside me, pulsing. I'm so full of you, Remus. I love when you let go, when you shout my name."

"Hermione …"

"Close," she smirked, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "I'm so close. Don't you want to feel me come? Don't you want to feel me squeeze you?"

He turned his head to find her lips, but she backed away, a teasing smile on her face.

"Hermione," he growled.

She slowed her movements, loving what she was doing to him. His legs were taut, the one hand he still had on her hip painful. He was still rubbing her with light pressure, but she could tell he wanted to go harder, to make her come, so he could follow.

Not this time.

She leaned forward again, her lips where his neck met his shoulder. "You're mine, Remus Lupin," she whispered, biting him. He shouted, his hips thrusting up and he came, yelling her name. She followed seconds later, feeling utterly complete and spent at the same time. She felt him leave her body, as she slid down one last time, her head coming to rest over his heart.

"I'm going to get you for that, Hermione Granger," he threatened in a sleepy voice, his arms heavy as he wrapped them loosely around her.

"Do your worst."

**They keep circling back to the whole 'mate' thing, never really finishing a conversation. What do you think about that? Believable or am I just dragging it out? **

**I've got a busy two days ahead, so I hope this chapter tides you over until I can find the time to write some more!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N - I'm not sure what I think of this chapter. It's more of a filler to advance the story, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Happy Friday, all!**

**I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>He looked in the mirror, smiling at the red mark Hermione's teeth left when she bit him earlier. She didn't break the skin, her teeth weren't sharp enough for that, but he understood the symbolism of it. She wanted to mark him the way he had marked her. He understood that feeling of possessiveness well. He'd been dealing with it for nearly six years, after all.<p>

Leaving the top two buttons of his shirt undone so she could see her handiwork, he walked out of the bathroom. His room still smelled like sex, her scent lingering in the air. She only left a few minutes ago, claiming she needed to get dressed before making dinner, an announcement that led to several attempts to change her mind. "Later," she had promised, leaving the room in one of his shirts, her own clothing clutched in her hands. He didn't remember ripping her shorts and felt bad that he didn't feel guilty about it.

Stripping sheets off his bed, he quickly said the spell to set his room to rights, opening the window to let in the fresh hair. He stood by the window to watch the sun set for a minute, enjoying the peace the view brought him the day after the full moon. The wolf was quiet, content.

He was, too.

* * *

><p>"Damn," Hermione muttered, the scar on her skin still visible after several different glamour spells. Twisting her hair, she considered pulling it into a side braid, but that seemed to draw attention to her neck.<p>

"Problem?"

She saw Remus in the mirror's reflection, his gaze curious as he leaned against her bathroom door.

"I can't cover this," she gestured to her neck. "Do you know a spell I don't?"

He walked forward, resting one hand on her shoulder, the other brushing aside her hair so he could kiss her cheek. "Why do you want to cover it?" he asked, immediately feeling relaxed in her presence. He could get used to this.

"Harry and Sirius will be home soon and …" her voice trailed off and she shrugged. He pushed aside his irritation at the thought that she wanted to hide his mark from the world, telling himself that she was thinking of the others, how they might react to the news and she wasn't ready to deal with that. Not yet.

"There isn't a spell," he told her.

"What?" she turned to face him, noting that while his expression was sympathetic, his eyes were dark. She knew that look. It was the look gets just before he'd slid inside her. It was dominant, possessive. Moony.

"That's the point of the mark, Hermione. Others see it and know you've been claimed."

She let out a huff of frustration. That's all fine and good, but with her Harry and Sirius due home any minute, she really didn't feel like having the conversation their reactions would likely generate. Pushing past Remus, Hermione walked to her wardrobe, taking off the light purple scoop-neck T-shirt she was wearing, pulling out a short-sleeved navy blue collared shirt instead. She left the top button undone, confident that the shirt covered enough of Remus' handiwork. Going back to the bathroom, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and said a spell for the scars on her arm that, thankfully, could be covered by magic. She missed the dark look that crossed Remus' face as he watched, his hands clenched as she brushed her hand over her arm, the letters spelling out "MUDBLOOD" disappearing. He had many regrets in his life, but his biggest would always be that Molly Weasley killed Bellatrix before he could get to her.

As much as Remus hated the scar – and it wasn't the scar he hated, but what he knew Hermione endured when it happened; she didn't talk about it and neither Harry nor Ron wanted to fill in the blanks - he knew she chose to cover it to protect Sirius. The pureblood wizard carried a lot of guilt because of his family; guilt he tried to assuage by taking care of the people he cared about: Remus, Harry, and Hermione. Some would think his gifts, his attention, his endless attempts to make Grimmauld Place a home are a sign of boredom; Remus knew it was because, deep down, Sirius didn't want to be left alone. The day Harry moved in was probably one of the happiest Sirius had since James and Lily died. When Hermione asked if she could live at his house, too, he immediately went into full home improvement mode to ready the house for their arrival, brining light to a place known for being dark.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded, taking her hand as they walked to the kitchen. She got to work preparing dinner while waving her hand in the general direction of the cupboards, a silent request he learned long ago that meant "Set the table and stay out of my way." Only when he opened the cupboard to get the plates, they weren't there.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Where are the dishes?"

"Oh, I rearranged things last night. The way it was before didn't make sense."

"It's always been that way."

"And it always didn't make sense," she replied, settling a pot of peeled potatoes on the stove to boil.

Shaking his head, Remus, opened cupboards until he found what needed. The next few minutes passed in comfortable silence, the pair used to working around each other. His part done, Remus sat at the table, opened up a bite-sized piece of chocolate he stashed in the very back of the cutlery drawer, and popped it in his mouth, rolling his eyes when she told him he was going to spoil his appetite. He was always hungry. Add the fact that he was still recovering from last night and spent most of the day in bed with her, it was going to take a lot more than one piece of chocolate to keep him from finishing dinner.

"What did you do for meals while I was gone?" Hermione asked, bringing a pitcher of water to the table.

"We ate out a lot," Remus told her. "Molly took pity on us, too."

"You'd think two wizards who helped create the Maraurder's Map when they were students could figure out simple kitchen spells," she grumbled half-heartedly. Truth be told, she didn't mind cooking. It was soothing, actually; a chore that had a beginning and an end. Plus, preparing meals freed her from cleanup which, despite the aid of magic, still wasn't fun.

Remus opened his mouth to reply, but the fireplace turned green before he could, Sirius stepping out first, followed by Harry a minute later.

"Hello everyone," Sirius greeted, looking at Remus, then studying Hermione, the cautious look on his face giving way to a smile when he noticed the mark on her shoulder. Rounding the table, he pulled Remus up for a quick hug. "Good on you, Moony," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Harry watched the exchange in confusion. Turning to Hermione, she shrugged and quickly changed the subject.

"Did the meeting with Kingsley go well?"

"Brilliant," he replied, the odd behavior of his father's two best friends forgotten as he walked everyone through his day, beginning with breakfast at the Burrow and ending with his auror training schedule, which starts tomorrow.

"So soon?" Hermione asked. "I thought you'd get a break first."

"I guess they think the last few weeks were a bit of a break already," he replied, avoiding her gaze. "Besides, Ginny goes back to school soon. There's really no reason to delay it, right?"

Hermione nodded half-heartedly. That was it, then. Harry and Ron would become aurors, like they always wanted. Ginny and Neville and Luna would go back to school. Percy would return to work at the Ministry. Fred and George had their store. Charlie was back with his dragons. Bill and Fleur were going to be parents. Everyone was moving forward with their lives. Everyone but her.

Remus watched as Hermione move the remainder of her dinner listlessly around her plate with her fork, her enthusiasm for Harry's play-by-play diminishing the longer he talked. He knew her own future was up in the air at this time, not by means of conversation but just from her lack of plans, which was not like her at all.

"Anyway," Harry pushed back from the table, taking his dishes and putting them in the sink. "I told Ginny I'd stop by tonight. Any of you want to come, too?"

Hermione shook her head, as did Remus. Sirius considered the invitation for a second, but his curiosity was too great.

"I think I'll stay here, Harry."

"Sure," he replied, leaving the kitchen. They all heard his feet pounding up the stairs a moment later.

"It was really quiet here without the two of you," Sirius announced, breaking the melancholy mood that had settled in the room. Hermione snorted.

"I'm sure the two of you wallowed the entire time," she replied.

"Remus wanted to, but I forced him out," Sirius told her. "I knew you wouldn't want to come home to a shell of a man; no fun shagging someone who isn't up to the task, right?"

"Padfoot," Remus cautioned in a low voice. Hermione just laughed, feeling better. Pushing back from the table, she stood to clear the rest of the dishes, giving Remus a kiss on the cheek before winking at Sirius.

"I, for one, am grateful," she told him.

"See? I told you, Remus. If ever there was a girl up to spending the rest of her life with a moody werewolf, it was our Hermione."

"_My _Hermione."

He shrugged. "Whatever."

Sitting back in his chair, he observed as Remus helped Hermione cleared the table. He was sure they weren't aware of how _right_ they looked together, how they anticipated the others' need without either one saying a word. They had always shared an easy friendship, bonding over books and theories and all other intelligent things that, frankly, bored him to tears, but now there was an intimacy about them. He watched as his friend rested his hand against the small of Hermione's back, the way she leaned into him. Remus looked … happy. He was happy. That was all Sirius needed to know; not that he wasn't opposed to asking for details, should either one ever feel the need to share further.

"So … everything is well?"

Hermione turned around, wrapping her arm around Remus' waist. He responded by kissing the top of her head. "Everything is well," she replied.

He grinned. "I don't have to sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future?"

"Not this time," Remus told him.

"Works for me." Not wanting to push his luck, Sirius decided to spend the rest of his evening in his room, standing up from his chair to leave when Harry came marching into the kitchen, looking furious.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded, holding out a piece of parchment. Hermione blanched when she saw her handwriting, her list of questions for Remus. She had left it in the study.

"Answer me!" Harry yelled, shoving past Sirius to march in front of Remus, who had pushed Hermione behind him. "What did you do? Did you touch her?"

"Harry -"

"I'm asking Remus, Sirius; not you!"

Hermione placed her hand on Remus' arm. She could feel his tension, his anger. She tried to move around him, but he pushed her back again.

"You did, didn't you?" Harry whispered, green eyes wide with shock. "You honestly believe she's your mate?"

"She is," Remus replied, his voice low. "And if you want to talk about this rationally, I will, but only when you've calmed down."

"'Calmed down?' You're 20 years older than her! You've known her since she we were kids! What kind of a sick man -"

"That's enough!" Remus roared, making everyone jump; even Sirius. "I'm taking Hermione to her room. I'll meet the two of you in the study in a few minutes."

Without waiting for an answer, Remus grabbed Hermione by the hand and pulled her from the kitchen, his stride angry as he walked down the hall and up the stairs, his grip on her almost crushing. He opened her bedroom door and pulled her inside, immediately bringing her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She wrapped her hands around his waist, squeezing tight, trying to forget the look of disgust on Harry's face. She knew this was going to be difficult. Not everyone was going to be like Sirius, but she assumed Harry would be on her side, like he always was.

"I'm going to make it better, all right?" He pulled away, tucking a finger under her chin and lifting her head so he could look at her, desperately wishing the tears in her eyes wouldn't fall. He couldn't comfort her right now. He had to deal with Harry. He had to make this right, make Harry understand. Remus knew how close Hermione and Harry were. She couldn't be happy without his support.

"I want to go with you."

"You can't."

She stiffened at that, backing out of his embrace. "Excuse me?"

"You can't be there."

"Remus, I know I'm new to the whole concept of being your mate, but this concerns me, too. Harry is my best friend. I need to be there."

"And I need you to stay here," he replied, holding his temper in check. "He's a threat right now."

"He's not a -"

"He's a threat," he repeated, eyes flashing. "I can't have you around him until he's calmed down."

Grabbing her by the arms, he lifted her until she was eye-level with him, kissed her fiercely and left the room, shutting the door behind him. She was still trying to process his words when she heard the lock click. She ran to the door and pulled. It didn't budge. She reached for the wand that was tucked in her back pocket, but it was gone.

_I'm going to kill him. _


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: So Remus' actions in the last chapter just happened. I did not plan on writing that, but it felt right at the time, which is what I'm sure he's feeling now. It's like when you're mad so you break something and then you're madder because you broke something. It's a vicious cycle.**

**This chapter is kind of all over. Hope you like it! As always, I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you're OK with this!" Harry was shouting at Sirius when Remus got to the bottom of the stairs.<p>

"Not everything in life is black and white, good and bad, right and wrong, Harry!" Sirius yelled back, making his godson turn away in frustration as Remus walked in the room.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry demanded.

"Her room."

"How'd you manage that?" Sirius asked.

Remus put Hermione's wand on the coffee table, flinching as Harry sucked in his breath.

"She is going to kill you," he whispered.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he muttered, sitting in an armchair, staring at the wand. He'd regretted his actions the minute he shut her door. It wasn't something he'd ever done, or ever considered doing, but when Harry had stormed into the kitchen, his only thought was protecting Hermione. He wanted her away from Harry, away from the situation, and in that moment, he didn't care how. It was pure instinct. Protect his mate. He ran his fingers though his hair and looked at Sirius, his eyes pleading. "I don't … she's got me tied in knots. All I want to do is take care of her, keep her safe, and she is going to fight me every time. Every. Single. Time."

"Well, yeah," Harry said. "She's Hermione."

Sirius didn't think it was possible, but Remus paled even more. He exchanged a look with Harry, who sat on the couch, his outrage forgotten as he stared at his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. This was the man who taught him the Patronus Charm, who made him believe that he and his friends could take on the Death Eaters. He was a werewolf and he was trembling – _his hands were actually shaking_ – because of a witch who was nearly a foot shorter than he.

"Um … Sirius kind of told me a little about this whole mate business," Harry mumbled, looking down at his hands. "He made it sound like you didn't have a choice."

"I didn't. I don't."

"Why?"

He sighed. "I don't know, Harry; why does anyone love the person they're supposed to be with?"

His eyes widened. "You love her?"

"More than anything."

Harry sat back. He didn't know what to think; he hadn't since he picked up that parchment and saw Hermione's writing. She had a list of questions. Questions about her. About Remus. About him claiming her. About them being together. It didn't make sense. Hermione was his friend. Remus was … he was kind of like a father. The idea of the two of them together, behind his back – he snapped.

Hermione always told him he held too much inside. She was right. Again.

"You recognized her when you first saw her?" Harry asked to clarify the story Sirius told him.

"Before," he replied, eyes still on the wand. "I recognized her scent."

"Did you … did you want to …"

"No!" He jumped up and started pacing, a reaction Sirius preferred over his blank stare. "Merlin, I am so tired of being made to feel like a dirty old man every time I have to explain this! Werewolves have mates. It happens when they recognize each other and, if they are lucky enough to find each other, they will be together forever. When I met Hermione, when I knew she was mine, I did _not _want her! She was a child! I may be a damn werewolf, but I still have some decency!"

"Calm down, Remus," Sirius said. "Harry asked a simple question; one you'd ask if the situation was reversed."

Nodding, Remus took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Harry. No, I didn't want her in a physical sense until she was of age."

"But even then …"

"I waited. She was a little involved in other matters," he said ruefully.

Harry couldn't stop his smile. "You know we couldn't have done it without her."

"And now I can't live without her," Remus said, sitting on the couch.

Harry nodded, his face thoughtful. Sirius watched as his godson took in the information. He had James' temper: react first, think later. He'd seen Harry angry before, but the look on his face after Remus and Hermione left the kitchen – he didn't blame Remus for his response. Not giving Hermione the chance to speak probably wasn't the best course of action, but he's never been in love, so what did he know?

"What happens now?" Harry asked.

Remus shrugged. "We're figuring it out as we go along."

"But you um … the two of you are, I mean, you have –"

Remus nodded.

"So that's that? The way Sirius explained it is now that you've, um … now that you have, it's official."

Remus shifted uncomfortably, but nodded again.

"Does she love you?"

He looked over, surprised. "I don't know. She will. There can't be a connection like ours without love, but she hasn't said it."

"She probably does," Harry said, looking down at his hands. "She wouldn't be with you if she didn't love you, especially since she hasn't -"

He broke off, as if he was about to blurt out a great secret.

"You know," Sirius said, "it's safe to assume Hermione is up there plotting Remus' death, but if she was to find out what we're talking about right now ..." He slid his index finger across his neck.

"Right," Harry said, standing up. "Um, I can't suddenly pretend that this isn't still weird, Remus, but I want to apologize for my outburst earlier." He held out his hand. Standing, Remus took it and pulled Harry forward for a brief hug.

"I can feel the love, guys."

"Shut up, Sirius," Harry and Remus said together.

"I'm going to go apologize to Hermione," Harry said. "Do you want me to take her wand to her?"

Remus handed it over. "Maybe you could mention how sorry I am?"

"Not to be mean, but I'm kind of out for me first, Remus."

"Fair enough."

* * *

><p>Hermione looked at her reflection. The green halter dress was an impulse buy; something she purchased in Sydney in attempt to make herself feel better after another failed attempt to find her parents. She never thought she'd wear it, but seeing as it covered Remus' mark, she might just invest in one of every color.<p>

"Hermione?" Harry called through the locked door. "It's me. May I come in?"

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"Do you have my wand?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to apologize?"

"Yes."

"Come in."

He did, opening the door slightly to slide her wand through first. Hermione laughed, opening the door all the way, grabbing Harry's hand and tugging him inside. She slammed the door closed and did her own locking spell, adding a silencing charm for good measure.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair. She sat on her bed, twirling her wand between her fingers, the look on her face similar to the expression she had after punching Draco Malfoy.

"I'm sorry for yelling," he started. "I shouldn't have … I'm just sorry, OK?"

She raised her eyebrow.

"Oh, come on, Hermione. I already had to have one uncomfortable conversation. Please don't make me do it again."

"If this makes you uncomfortable, Harry, then we still have a problem."

"We don't. We won't," he said, getting up to sit next to her. "It's going to take more than a day, but if you're happy, I'm happy for you. Are you happy?"

"Aside from the past hour, yes, I'm happy."

"He's who you want?"

She smiled. "Even before I knew him."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You sound just like him."

She laughed and got off the bed. "So, now what?"

"You're the one who looks like she's in revenge mode," he said. "You tell me."

She looked thoughtful and then grabbed a pair of heeled sandals, slipping them on. "Let's get out of here."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Let's get Ginny, Ron and do something. Is the floo in your room connected?"

"No."

"All right, through the front door then. Keep walking. Do not talk to either man. Agreed?"

He nodded, the feral look in his eyes scaring him from doing anything else. She linked her arm through his and together they walked downstairs, Harry shooting a furtive glance in the study as they passed by.

"Oi!" Sirius called. "Where are you off to?"

"Keep walking," Hermione murmured.

"Hermione."

She ignored Remus, smiling at Harry when he opened the door. A moment later they were on the front step. By the time Remus opened the door, they were gone.

"I would not want to be you right now," Sirius said from behind his shoulder.

"Bugger off."

* * *

><p>"Let's have another!" Fred shouted, everyone at the table cheering as another round of shots appeared as if by magic. If they had been at one of their usual haunts, that would have been the case, but instead they were at a Muggle bar in London, a place George heard about from a friend. Hermione didn't care. After the day she had, she was ready for drown her cares away, matching Ron drink for drink in a game Harry had seen played out many times.<p>

"Who passed out first the last time they did this?" Ginny asked, cheering as Hermione slammed down her glass, adding a galleon to the small pile on the table. Ron followed a second later.

"Hermione," Harry said.

"She's out for revenge," Ginny murmured, kissing Harry's cheek.

"In more ways than one," he replied, wincing as their glasses were filled again.

"Shouldn't we slow down?" Ron asked. "I mean, some of us have to work tomorrow!"

"Oh, Ron" Hermione sniffed. "You sound like -"

"You?"

"Yes!" Hermione cried, eyes wide and a bit glassy. "I can be so annoying!"

Ron looked like he wanted to agree, then realized it was a trap, and drank his shot instead, tossing his galleon to the middle of the table. Holding up a finger for a temporary timeout, Hermione grabbed Fred's arm and pulled him to the dance floor.

"What gotten into you tonight, love?" he asked, his arms around her waist.

"Oh, you know. Fight a war, kill an evil wizard, search for lost parents, come home broke, alone, learn the man you've loved for years loves you, too, but apparently that makes him a controlling ass, but fuck it all, you still love him."

Fred was nodding through most of her babbling, though the love parts of her rambling made him stumble. Hermione blamed it on her shoes and, using Fred's shoulder to support her balance, pulled them off, tossing them in the general direction of their table.

"Are you in love, Hermione?"

"Sadly, yes," he replied, tilting her head back to admire the flashing lights above them. They looked like stars. Red, blue, green, purple and yellow stars. Stars should be purple. Why weren't they? She wondered if she could make the stars purple. Remus probably knew a spell. He knew everything. That bastard.

"With whom? And if you don't say my name, I will be heartbroken."

"Oh Fred," she sighed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, the weight of her head suddenly too much so her peck was more of a head butt, but Fred was enjoying drunk Hermione too much to mind. "If only it were that simple. I am mated to another."

"Wait – mated? Like in werewolf?"

"So you've heard of it!" Her face was pure joy.

"It's a big deal, Hermione; not something to joke about."

"Tell me about it," she muttered, leaning on him once more, forcing him to tighten his grip on her waist so they remained upright. Yawning widely, she decided dancing wasn't as much fun as sitting, so she took Fred's hand again, dragging him off the dance floor. He caught his brother's eye, who quickly pushed out Hermione's chair and helped her into it.

"Doing all right, pet?" George asked.

"Peachy keen jelly bean," she snorted. She looked for another shot, but found a glass of water instead. A look around the table showed her why; Ron was out. "Yay!" she cried, pulling the pile of galleons to her. She counted out the others' share and slid the rest into her purse. Holding her water up in toast, she drank deeply before laying her head on the table and falling asleep.

"Work is going to suck tomorrow," Harry said.

* * *

><p>Remus was slouched in a chair at the kitchen table an empty bottle of firewhiskey in front of him. He and Sirius had finished it about an hour ago, but it didn't make him feel better. If anything, it made him feel worse. Sirius did not have such problems, having fallen asleep in the study a few minutes ago; their plan was to keep an eye on each fireplace for when Harry and Hermione returned. Remus had no idea what she would do to him, but she hoped she'd do it quick so he could begin the grovel portion of his life. Judging by his actions tonight, he should be finished by her 30th birthday.<p>

SLAM!

He jumped out of his chair, running to see Harry practically dragging Hermione through the front door.

"What happened?"

"Shots."

"She was shot?!"

"No, idiot. She _did _shots. A lot of 'em."

"It wasn't a lot," Hermione slurred, her arm slung around Harry's neck.

"It wasn't a little," Harry snickered and the two of them laughed.

"How drunk are you?" Remus asked.

Harry yawned. "I'm not that bad. She's worse. Ron's worser."

"That's not a word," Hermione mumbled, leaning against the wall to stop the house from spinning. "Ron's worstest."

Harry nodded in agreement, joining Hermione against the wall. It wasn't a bad spot. Maybe they could sleep there. He nudged Hermione to ask, but she was busy staring at the floor. It seemed to be staying still, so that was a good thing, but she was missing her shoes. Weird. She looked up and caught the eye of the man in front of her.

"Remus!" she cried.

"Hermione," he said cautiously.

"I'm mad at you, you know."

He nodded gravely.

"I'm going to yell at you later."

"All right."

Pushing herself away from the wall, she stumbled into his arms. "But now I'm tired. Can you take me to bed?"

"Ew," Harry said, shuffling to his own room.

"I'm not talking about sex, Harry James Potter!"

"Yeah you are; you just said it," he laughed, his hand grasping the banister as he pulled himself upstairs. "Silencing charms!" he yelled before slamming his bedroom door shut.

Hermione shook her head, an action she immediately regretted. It made the house spin again. Why was the house spinning? Sirius should fix that.

"Are you drunk?" she asked Remus. He smelled like alcohol. He looked terrible. Actually, he looked sad and pathetic, but still cute. Dammit.

"I tried. It didn't take," he replied, sweeping her into his arms. She looped her arms around his neck as he walked up the stairs. "Who's room am I taking you to?"

"Mine," she said, pointing to it helpfully, almost falling out of his arms. He tightened his grip and nudged her door open. Setting her on her feet, he started to back out, stopping only when she grabbed a handful of his shirt.

"Where are you going?"

"My room."

"Why? Don't you love me anymore?"

He moved forward, brushing her hair back from her flushed face and kissing her lightly on her forehead. "Very much, but I don't think you want me here right now."

"You're right, I don't!"

He nodded and let go.

"But, since you're here, you might as well stay," she said, turning away to take off her dress. Wearing only a pair of black silk knickers, she walked to her wardrobe, grabbed a shirt and put it on, shuffling into the bathroom. "I'm gonna brush my teeth!" she shouted in the unnaturally loud voice to tended to use after drinking too much. "If you want to sleep in my bed, you can."

Remus closed her door, but did not lock it, and stripped down to his boxers, climbing into her bed. She crawled in a second later, placing her wand on the nightstand with a pointed look at him before getting into bed. She moved over until she was lying on his chest, one arm loosely around his waist.

"I don't forgive you," she mumbled.

"I understand."

"We have to talk."

"We will," he promised, running his hands down her back, slowly kneading her muscles. "I'm so, so sorry."

A soft snore was her response.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: For Nella Hyuga and all other reviewers who wanted to see Hermione get her revenge, I offer this chapter and hope it makes you happy. If you are under age 18, please stop reading. **

**I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>Remus didn't get drunk, but he did indulge, which explained his pounding headache the next morning. He groaned and tried to roll over but he couldn't. He raised his hand to rub his eyes, but he couldn't do that, either.<p>

_What the hell?_

"Oh, good. You're awake."

His eyes snapped open. He was in Hermione's room, in Hermione's bed, but he couldn't move.

"What -"

"Binding spell," Hermione answered, leaving the chair where she had been sitting for the past hour, contemplating her next move. She ran her hand down Remus' face, tapping him on the nose with her index finger. "Temporary, of course."

His eyes narrowed. "You performed a binding spell on me?"

She smiled, sweetly. "It's horrible, isn't it; having all of your choices taken from you? It's almost, hmm, what's the word … _emasculating_."

He tried to sit up. She continued to smile and shook her head. "I don't think so, _mate_. It's time for you and me to have a little conversation. We're going to establish some ground rules." She stretched, slowly, the hem of her T-shirt rising to show several inches of her flat stomach. "We're going to talk through what happened yesterday and reach an understanding like the two mature adults we are and if I feel you can follow them, and stop behaving like a sophomoric, condescending ass, I will let you go.

"In other words," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the lips, the tips of her hair brushing against his face. "Be good."

She walked to her desk, where she picked up a small bottle of blue liquid and a glass of water. Bringing both to the bed, she held them up, her eyebrow raised in question.

"Hangover potion?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I'm fine," he told her.

"It will help with your headache."

"I don't -"

"Don't lie to me, Remus. I've already learned that you can tell when I'm lying to you," she said, gesturing to the small pile of books on the floor next to her armchair. "With time, with _trust_, I'll be able to do the same."

"Where did you -?"

"Your room," she told him, holding the potion to his lips, smiling when he swallowed. "You said I was free to borrow what I wanted."

He drank the water next, his headache disappearing almost instantly. "Thank you."

"Of course," she replied, climbing on the bed and sitting cross-legged next to him, her wand slowly tracing shapes on his stomach. "Taking care of each other is important part of this relationship. I learned that this morning, too."

"Hermione -"

She held up her finger and shook her head. "I'm going to talk now and you are going to listen. Understand?"

He nodded.

"First, I know you are sorry for what happened last night. I know that wasn't you but Moony reacting to a tense situation. However, what you refuse to acknowledge, Remus, is that you're Moony. You are the man and the wolf, and until you reconcile that fact, we are going to have problems because I am not going to be the little woman. I entered into this relationship with eyes wide open. I may not have understood all aspects of it, but I do know that if you expect me to bow down to you -"

"I would never –"

She laid her finger on his lips. "No talking," she reminded him. He sighed, nodding slightly. "Thank you. Now, where was I … oh, yes. You and I are going to have to explain our age difference to a lot of people. They are going to look at you as a lecherous older man and me as a naive schoolgirl. We both know that's not true, but there will be times when others refuse to listen. I hope that when that happens, a certain someone _won't _think he must do the fighting for two, locking said girl in her room without her wand. It reinforces the stereotype - and pisses off the girl.

"Second, you claim to know me, therefore you know a move like that would never, _ever_ sit well with me. Had you explained, Remus, that you felt threatened and needed a few minutes with Harry alone before asking me to join you, I would have understood." She looked thoughtful. "I would not have liked it," she admitted, "but I would have given you the benefit of the doubt."

She stood up and walked around her room, pacing as she often did when gathering her thoughts, much like Remus did. He wanted to smile at the similarity, but not when she had that look on her face and her wand in her hand.

"My life … things are a bit up-in-the-air right now, Remus. I don't know what my plans are and the last thing I considered doing was entering into a relationship at this time. I need to figure out what to do next, without your influence. So while I promise to have more patience with you and your mood swings as we navigate our bond, I need you to have patience with me as I explore my options. I do not need you to offer advice unless I ask. I understand that for several years my well-being was your top priority, but I'm an adult now and if we're going to do this, I need to know you understand that caring goes both ways."

She sat back on the bed, her face serious as she looked at him. "Fifty-fifty. That's the only way this is going to work."

He didn't respond, but raised his eyebrow in question. She wanted to smile, but nodded instead.

"I can do that," he told her.

"Can you really?"

"I will try," he acquiesced. "I am going to make mistakes. The closer we are to the full moon, before and after, the harder it will be to control myself if I feel you are being threatened, but I will try."

She nodded. "If you promise to try, to listen to me when you are in alpha mode, I promise to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Agreed."

She smiled and sat back, stretching her legs in front of her, the tips of her toes brushing against his shoulder.

"Are we finished?" he asked.

"For now."

"Are you going to let me go?"

She gave him a wicked smile. "Are you uncomfortable?" She moved to sit on her knees. Leaning over him to gently rub his arms above his head, she kneaded his shoulders. He tried to concentrate on her touch and not the fact that her movements were making her breasts shift under her T-shirt, which was almost in his face. He could smell her. Her anger. Her frustration. Her forgiveness. Her arousal.

"Remus?"

"What?"

"I asked if you were uncomfortable."

"Oh. No."

There was that smile again. He feared that smile.

"Well, that won't do."

Running her hands slowly down his body, she traced the scars on his arms, his chest, leaning forward to kiss, to lick, to nibble each one, slowing her administrations when he groaned.

"Hermione."

"Hmm?"

"Will you let me go? Please? I need to touch you."

She leaned forward to kiss him, pulling back slightly when he tried to deepen it. "No."

Sliding back down his body, she gripped him through his boxers, encircling his length with her hand. "I didn't just read about werewolves this morning," she told him, warned him, before removing his boxers and taking him in her mouth.

"Holy shit!"

He couldn't do anything as she kissed, licked and sucked. He wanted to grab her head with his hands, thread his fingers through her hair and make her go deeper. He wanted to pull her away and slide into wet heat instead. He wanted to move his hips, to thrust, but he couldn't. All he could do was lie there and watch as she explored, being light when he wanted rough, hard when he wanted soft. She was killing him. This is how he was going to die.

Hermione felt … powerful. Yes, that was the word. She had the man she loved by the balls, literally, and loving every minute of his. She knew she was driving him crazy, she could feel his frustration, his desire, but she didn't care. She knew Remus. If she let him go, he would take over, driving her up again and again before he'd take for himself. She licked her way down his length, her hands lighting gripping his balls. She squeezed, gently, and ran her nails underneath, as she took him deep in her mouth, moving up and down slowly.

"I can't … please …"

She went faster, sucked harder. She could feel his thighs tense. Using her tongue, she licked the head. Remus roared, shouting her name, the sound echoing off the ceiling as she sucked him dry, backing off only when he trembled, whispering her name. Picking up her wand, she said the spell to release him, laughing when he reared up to take her in his arms, ripping her shirt off, flipping her so their positions were reversed.

"I have to taste you," he said, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips. "I have to know how wet …"

He didn't finish the sentence, tearing off her panties as he moved down her body to take her in an open-mouth assault that made her grab his head and scream, the first orgasm coming out of nowhere. She lay back, breathing harsh as she tried to slow the beating of her heart. Remus' head came up, eyes flashing, a determined look on his face.

"Again," he growled.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Sigh. I feel I'm losing control of the story. I don't really know where it's going at this point. I know where I want it to end, but getting there ... Things got a bit heavier than I had anticipated, so now I want to bring back some of the lightness. Hopefully something will come to me during my run. (10 miles; good thinking time.)**

**I do not own anything related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>Hermione walked downstairs feeling better. She couldn't say the same for Sirius, who was sitting at the kitchen table looking rather pathetic.<p>

"How much did you drink last night?"

"Apparently not as much as you," he said forlornly. "I missed out."

Hermione blushed. She didn't indulge often, but it seemed every time she did, Sirius was there encouraging her to have another. "So this isn't a hangover pout but an I-miss-everything mope?"

He nodded. She gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat, pulling the small cauldron they used for household expenses off the shelf, adding the galleons she earned last night.

"There were drinking games? And you won?"

She winked. "You would've been proud."

He groaned and laid his head on the table. "The next time your man is an ass, I'm taking your side."

She laughed. "Liar."

He shrugged, but kept his head on the table. "Speaking of Remus, is he still with us or did you murder him while I slept on an extremely uncomfortable couch? And if you did kill him, what cover story did you come up with?"

"You don't need to fear a return trip to Azkaban, Sirius," Hermione said, bringing a plate of toast and two mugs of tea to the table. "Remus is alive and well. He's having a bit of a lie in this morning."

"Hmm," Sirius said, studying her closely. Deciding he liked what he saw, he toasted her silently with his tea. They sat companionably, looking up only when an owl tapped on the window, a letter clutched in his beak. Sirius lazily waved his wand to let him in, watching with amusement as he gave the letter to Hermione, accepting a bite of toast as a thank you. "Good news, love?"

"That depends. I'm apparently meeting Fred and George for lunch."

"Perhaps you made plans last night."

She thought back, but most of last night was a blur. She was still fuming when she and Harry arrived at the Burrow, which prompted Ginny to contact her brothers and arrange a night out. Everything after that was a mix of colors – some of them alcohol, some of them stars. She remembers dancing … with Fred …

"Oh no."

"Hermione?"

"I've got get ready; you can have the rest of the toast!"

* * *

><p>"What do you know?"<p>

Fred opened his eyes wide, his face a picture of innocence. If it was any other wizard in the world, she might actually believe he was sincere.

"I ask you to lunch and you accuse me of wrongdoing? Really, Hermione, I thought you had better manners than that."

"The lack of respect youngsters have for their elders these days is appalling," George added, pulling out a chair for Hermione at a corner café in Diagon Alley.

Hermione took her seat with a huff. She knew the twins. When they had information, they shared it when they were ready and not a moment before. She only wished she knew what they knew, which could be anything given how she tended to babble when drinking.

"Hungry, pet? They make great sandwiches here; extra meat if that's your thing," George said, studying the menu, a small smile on his lips.

"I'll take egg salad, thank you," she told the waitress, eyes narrowed as Fred and George placed their orders. Anyone who passed by their table would think it was nothing more than three friends playing catch up after several weeks apart. Hermione knew better; it was an ambush.

"Out with it; what did I tell you last night?"

Fred's eyes sparkled as he leaned back in his chair. "I have no idea what you're talking about, love. We just wanted to talk with you about your future."

"Exactly. Mum isn't the only one wondering what your plans are now that school is no longer dragging you down."

Hermione sighed, feeling restless and frustrated. Every time she tried to focus on her future, that's what she felt. She had no idea what she was doing or what she wanted to do. "I don't know."

"Hmm. Waiting for inspiration to strike, perhaps?" George asked.

"Something like that."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful as he sipped his butterbeer.

"You know," Fred said. "You could work with us."

"For you?"

"Not for, pet; with," George clarified. "You know how much we admire that brain of yours. Don't you think it's time to put it to good use?"

Hermione snorted. "Sure."

"Why not?" Fred asked. "We're brilliant when it comes to ideas, but the execution isn't always easy. We could use someone like you."

"Sirius helps at times," George added.

"Really?"

"Yep; Remus, too."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Remus?"

"Surprising, isn't it? But you have to remember, he was a Marauder before he was a professor."

She did tend to forget that. She was aware of Remus' history at Hogwarts and his close friendship with James and Sirius, a friendship that led to them becoming Animagus so they could keep Remus company during the full moon, but it was hard to reconcile those stories with the man she knew. On the other hand, he was very much the mindset that if something was going to be done, it should be done right. That kind of attention to detail likely served Fred and George well.

"Still with us, love?" Fred asked.

"What would working with you entail?"

The twins' faces lit up. Both had prepared to have to talk her into their idea, but if she was giving in so easily, they could settle the business portion of their lunch and move on to more pleasing topics.

Hermione listened as they outlined some of their new ideas and the roadblocks they've encountered trying to bring them to light. Hermione could feel herself getting excited about the possibilities. She wished she had a quill and a parchment to jot down the thoughts running through her head.

"Stop by the store tomorrow and have a look at the lab. You can work there or at your place; your preference. We can sort out the details as needed."

She nodded absently, her thoughts already on potions and spells. She couldn't wait to check her books. George looked at Fred who nodded slightly.

"Oh, and you forgot this last night," George said, taking one of Hermione's sandals out of his robes and setting it on the table.

Hermione grabbed the sandal, vaguely remembering kicking it off when standing in shoes became too cumbersome. "You only rescued one?" she asked.

"That's right, George," Fred looked inquisitively at his brother. "Shouldn't there be two?"

"You are correct, brother mine," George smirked. "Every shoe has a mate."

Hermione looked up at the word mate, eyes narrowed.

"Worried about your footwear, love?" Fred asked.

She leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. "What do you know?"

He smiled. "Not nearly enough."

* * *

><p>"Hello?" she called as she walked through the kitchen fireplace, her hip grazing the side of the table.<p>

"In here!"

Rubbing her hip absently, she followed the shout to the study, finding Remus stretched out on the couch, wearing faded green trousers and a gray T-shirt and holding a book in his hands. A cup of tea and a half-eaten candy bar sat on the coffee table.

"You look relaxed," she told him.

He gave her a lazy grin, pushing himself up to a seated position. "I can't imagine why."

She smirked, moving to sit on the couch, snuggling into Remus' side. She sighed as her ran his fingers through her hair; wishing life could be as simple as it was right now.

"How was lunch?"

"I kind of have a job. The twins asked me to freelance; help them tweak some of their ideas." She turned to look up at him. "I didn't know that was something you did."

He shrugged. "At times. It keeps the mind sharp."

"That's what I was thinking; something to keep me busy while I figure out the bigger picture."

"That makes sense."

There was more. He could tell by the way she sat, not completely relaxed. He wanted to ask questions, but considering the past 24 hours, exercising caution seemed the best course of action. Moving so he could rest his feet on the coffee table, he massaged Hermione's head and waited.

"Fred and George know."

"They know what?"

"About us."

He waited for panic to set in, but it didn't. Interesting.

"Remus?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have a reaction to that?"

"I suppose I'm curious as to how they found out, but given your level of intoxication last night, I assume loose lips played a role."

That's what Fred had told her. She never mentioned Remus' name during her tirade about love, but seeing as mate is a werewolf term and Remus is the only werewolf they knew, he and George were able to figure it out rather quickly.

_"That's it?" she had asked. "I tell you I'm happy with my choice and the conversation's over?"_

_"It is a bit of a letdown," Fred agreed, "but seeing as neither one of us want details about your love life, we're going to leave it at that."_

_"Although we were wondering who else knows besides us and, we assume, Sirius," George chimed in._

_"Harry found out yesterday."_

_"Oh," Fred shook his head. "Suddenly the need to drink makes more sense."_

_"He's fine now."_

_"Key word being now," George said._

Hermione sat up to look at Remus. "I'm sorry."

He leaned over to kiss her. "I'm not."

She studied him. "You're not?"

"People are going to find out, Hermione."

"I know that, but …"

"But?"

"Why are you so calm?"

He chuckled. "It could be because we're further removed from the full moon, but I suspect it's because a certain witch who will hex me into next week if I don't start to let things go. She doesn't like it when I take on all the burdens of the world by myself."

She elbowed him in the side, laughing as he retaliated by wrestling her to the floor, his body taking the brunt of their fall from the couch before he moved to settle on top of her, one hand cushioning her head.

"I am sorry I wasn't there to take some of the attention off of you," he said, tracing her lips with his finger, his lips following. "I have complete confidence that you handled them well."

The statement was similar to what Fred and George had said after lunch. Walking back to their store, both had promised to kill Remus if he ever hurt her; a threat Fred told her they were required to make given the appendages all men have.

_"While we do mean it, we know you can handle things on your own."_

_"We're there for backup," George added._

_"__And you help dispose of the body," Fred told her._

"So that's it?" she asked, the need for conversation growing less important as Remus slowly unbuttoned her shirt, his hand sliding inside to explore.

He nodded. "Truth be told, if there's a Weasley that knows, I'd rather it's Fred and George than Ginny."

"Ginny? Why?

He shuddered. "Girl talk."

She sat up and hit his shoulder. "Remus Lupin, that is completely sexist!"

"I agree, but before you get up in arms, let me ask this. Does your friendship with Ginny mean you know things about Harry you wished you didn't?"

She opened her mouth to reply and then shut it. It was bad enough she knew what she knew; why make Remus suffer, too?

He smirked. "I thought so."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Running is good for the plot. I do not own anything related to Harry Potter.**

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><p>"Can I keep secrets from you?"<p>

Remus looked up from pile of parchment on his desk at Hermione, who was sitting in his armchair, a stack of books on the footstool. She was one a self-appointed werewolf expert binge, buying every book she could on the subject and then crosschecking everything she read with him. They've had several conversations during which he felt like her teacher again. This was especially uncomfortable when they were in bed, so he instituted a "No werewolf talk when we're naked" rule and she, thankfully, complied.

"Do you plan on keeping secrets?" he asked.

"I was just curious," she replied. "I understand that our connection means we can tell when the other one is lying, but what if there's something we don't want the other to know?"

Getting up, she walked over to where he sat and crawled into his lap, snuggling until she was tucked underneath his chin, her arms around his waist, his around hers.

"What don't you want me to know?" he probed.

"Nothing bad, but let's say I bought you something great for your birthday -"

"You don't have to get me anything for my birthday," he interrupted.

She glared at him. "Of course I'd buy you a present on your birthday, but that's not the point. The point is would you know I bought you a present? Would you know what it is?"

He wasn't sure how to answer. It wasn't as if he set out to catch her in a lie; he just knew when they were talking if anything she told him was less than the truth. She didn't do it often, but when she did, it was usually to protect him, to not burden him with the truth. In that regard, they were a perfect match.

"I'm pretty sure present-related secrets are safe, but you probably shouldn't tell Sirius if you really want it to be a surprise."

She laughed. Almost two weeks have passed since the two of them were together for the first time and both could feel their bond strengthening every day. As such, she wanted to know more about what Remus experienced as a werewolf. She knew he wished she'd let him continue to deal with things the way he has for almost four decades, but she was convinced if he could reconcile himself to his lycanthropy, the transformations wouldn't be so draining – physically and emotionally.

Unfortunately, the negative views of werewolves in the wizarding world meant there weren't many books for her to research and prove her hypothesis. A few trips to Muggle bookstores resulted in more titles, though when she'd double-check the information with Remus, the Muggle information was wrong more often than not.

"Muggles have a strange fascination with werewolves," Sirius said, flipping through a paperback romance in featuring a partially-dressed woman in the arms of a werewolf.

"Vampires, too," Harry added, hoping Sirius wouldn't find out that the book was Ginny's.

"If you do another late-night reading the next full moon, can I request this book?" Sirius asked, smiling as he skimmed a chapter.

Hermione snatched it from his hands.

* * *

><p>"Why am I eating more meat?"<p>

Remus opened his eyes at the question, the shampoo he was using temporarily blinding him as he stuck his head back under the shower. "What?"

"Meat!" she yelled so he could hear her over the water. "I had four pieces of bacon at breakfast. I don't even like bacon."

"Hermione," he groaned. "I'm naked."

"I'm not," she replied. "Therefore, I'm not breaking your silly rule."

He opened the glass door and, ignoring her screech of protest, grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, the water quickly plastering her shorts and T-shirt to her body.

"First, it's wrong not to like bacon," he told her, peeling the wet shirt from her body. "Second, I know you had four pieces because you took the last one." Her bra came off next.

"But why?" she asked. "I'm not going to become a werewolf. And you weren't a werewolf when you bit me, so it's not like I have Bill's craving for rare meat."

He kneeled down to slide off her shorts and knickers next, then decided to stay down there for a few minutes to see if he could change the subject, but despite her moans and the grip she had on his shoulders – he loved feeling her nails score his skin – he knew this was only a temporary distraction.

Slowly kissing his way back up her body, he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent. It never failed to center him, calm him. He was addicted to it, to her.

"First, I marked you; I did not bite you," he said, framing her face with his hands, kissing her lightly. "I told you you'll have some traits."

"Right. I'll likely feel anxious around the full moon, restless, temperamental," she recited. "But you said nothing about carnivorous cravings."

His smile was indulgent. She loved it when he smiled. He's done it more in the past few weeks than in all the years she's known him. If possible, he looked younger. He still had the scars on his face, of course, but the rest of him didn't look so strained. His color was good, his eyes were brighter and he walked taller, as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders.

"Add meat cravings to the list of werewolf mate facts I didn't know," he told her. "You should write a book."

She laughed. "I'll call it 'Why Vegetarians Shouldn't Love Werewolves.'"

His heart tripped on the word 'love,' but he didn't ask her to clarify. She had yet to say she loved him and he wasn't going to push her to do so. Instead, he ran his hands down her back, cupped her bottom and lifted until she was in his arms. "Sounds like a bestseller to me."

* * *

><p>"I think I'm ready to tell Ron."<p>

Remus set aside his book. They were in the study, both of them wasting away a rainy afternoon reading. He was sitting at one end of the couch while she stretched the length, her feet in his lap.

"Really?"

"I know Harry feels bad knowing when Ron doesn't and … well, I've never kept anything big like his from him for this long. He's my best friend."

"He's also your ex-boyfriend," Remus pointed out.

"I don't think we were together long enough to establish that kind of terminology, but others do, so whatever," she shrugged. "The point is he's one of my best friends and I'm forcing his other best friend to keep something from him. The longer I put it off, the bigger it will seem when I finally tell him."

Remus nodded even though he'd be perfectly content if he never had the conversation with Ron. It wasn't that he disliked Ron, he just … No, Ron dated Hermione at a time when not being with her was killing him. He hated Ron.

"Do you want me to be there?" he asked, part of him hoping she'd say no.

"I think you should be."

He sighed. If this was a test to see if he could remain calm … He got up.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked.

"I need to buy more chocolate."

* * *

><p>"It's amazing, Hermione; I wish you would change your mind and accept Kingsley's offer."<p>

Hermione shook her head, smiling as Ron regaled her with stories about auror training. Some he had already told her, several times, but she loved his enthusiasm. Harry was all about the big picture – catch the bad wizards and make the world a better place while Ron enjoyed the perks that came with their responsibilities.

Being called Mr. Weasley by a senior member of the Ministry was one he especially loved.

"Oh! Mum wanted me to tell you that Ginny got permission to come home for your birthday dinner."

"Great! She's not too thrilled with my decision not to go back to Hogwarts, so I'm glad she won't miss that, too."

"You know she's going to want us to go out the night before?"

"I do."

"And you know I'll need to challenge you to another drinking game?"

She smirked. "And you know I'll win again, right?"

He grinned and took another cookie, the plate she had placed on the table nearly empty as they waited for Remus to come to the kitchen. Well, she was waiting. Ron just thought he was there for a chat. Hermione opened her mouth to just start talking when she heard Remus' footsteps.

"Sorry," he said, taking a seat in the chair next to her.

"Hey Remus," Ron said around a mouthful of cookies. Remus nodded.

"Um, so Ron, there was actually a reason I wanted you to stop by," she started.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Um, there's something I've wanted to tell you."

"What?"

She put her hands on the table, but they were shaking, so she set them in her lap. "Well, you know how you know a person, for a long time, and then one day it's like you're seeing them, really seeing them, for the first time?"

He looked at her blankly. "Huh?"

"OK," she tried again. "There's someone in my life who is very special to me and I am special to him, and so we have decided to start a, well, special relationship together and …" She gripped Remus' hand under the table and looked at him for help. He shrugged.

"Hermione," Ron said slowly. "If you are trying to tell me that you and Harry are looking at each other differently, I need to kill him for hurting my sister."

"No! It's not Harry."

"Is it Fred? Really, Hermione, you could do a lot better than him. George, too."

"No!"

"Is it Sirius? Because that would be weird."

Hermione closed her eyes and tugged on Remus' hand, bringing it up to the table. Peeking, she saw Ron look at their clasped hands, look at Remus, look at her, and look at the hands again. She felt Remus' grip tighten in hers.

"Bloody hell," Ron said, pushing back from the table. Remus tensed and Hermione prepared herself for shouting, but instead Ron went to the pantry, took out a tin of crackers, opened it, and withdrew a candy bar.

"That's your response?" she asked. "You're going to eat a bloody chocolate bar?"

He took a large bite, chewing slowly. Swallowing, he shrugged. "I don't really know what you want me to say. Is this strange? Yeah, a little. He's a lot older than us and he used to be our teacher, but he's not anymore and, well, you were never going to end up with anyone our age anyway."

"What?"

"You're too smart. It's intimidating. I didn't think you'd go higher than 10 years older, but it's your life, not mine." Suddenly realizing that the candy he was eating was Remus', he held out what was left. "Chocolate?"

Remus shook his head, his posture relaxing. This was going better than he imagined, Ron's "strange" comment aside.

"Um, that's good. I guess," Hermione said uncertainly.

"Is it? You both look like you expected me to explode or something?" He paused and studied Hermione's face. She looked guilty. "You were, weren't you? You expected me to have a fit about this!"

"Maybe a little," she admitted.

"Bloody hell! You have a few moments growing up during which your temper gets the best of you and suddenly you are labeled the hot-tempered one! I guarantee Harry will _not_ take the news as well as I did! I mean, he'll get over it, he's Harry, but you two better have a good speech prepared before you …" He broke off, noting that Hermione still looked guilty. "You already told him, didn't you?"

"If it helps," Remus interjected, "he found out by accident and he did yell. A lot."

Ron considered that for a moment. "Yeah, it helps. Thanks."

Popping the last piece of chocolate in his mouth, his eyes widened. "You didn't tell Ginny yet, did you? Because I was your best friend way before she was and if my little sister finds out secrets before me, I'm going to -"

"She doesn't know," Hermione said.

"Good."

"Um …" She looked down at the table. "But Fred and George do."

"WHAT?"

"It was an accident! I said something about mating when we were at the club and Fred realized we only know one werewolf and -"

"Wait, wait, wait! Mating? As in you are his mate? Are you serious?"

Hermione nodded. Ron glared at Remus.

"That's serious, Hermione. Once you go through with it, there's no going back and -" he broke off, finally noticing the scar on Hermione's shoulder. "Well, I guess there's no need to finish talking, huh?"

Hermione let go of Remus' hand to grab Ron's. "Ron, please. He didn't have a choice, but I did and I chose this. I really did."

Ron looked at Remus. "Do you love her?"

He nodded. "I do."

"Really? Because she can be crazy."

"I've learned."

"You're going to be learning a lot, mate. Trust me."

Hermione smiled. "Are you OK with this?"

He shrugged. "I'm not fantastic, but give me some time and I'll be OK. The important thing is you're happy, right?"

She nodded.

"And you love him, too?"

She looked at Remus. "I do. I love you, Remus Lupin."

He stood up, pulling her up too, and kissed her. Those three words … he had no idea how much it was killing him waiting for her to say that.

"Guys! Guys! I'm still trying to get used to this."

Remus pulled away. "There's chocolate in the silverware drawer," he said before taking Hermione into his arms again.

Averting his gaze, Ron dug around the back of the drawer and found a small bag of individual chocolates. Opening it up, he popped a few in his mouth. "I've got one best friend dating my sister, the other dating my old professor. I'm glad I don't have a third best friend going after my mum."

**I've always felt bad for Ron. It's bad enough most fanfics have him being a total jerk, but now J.K. Rowling admits pairing Hermione with him was a bad idea? He's like the Xander of the group. No special powers, just loyal. Shouldn't he get a break for that? He can't be easy being best friends with The Chosen One and the smartest witch in the class. So this was my attempt to give Ron some love because, despite all that, I never picture Hermione with him, either. :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sometimes the words don't want to come. Here's hoping this chapter doesn't disappoint.**

**As always, I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>Hermione studied the vials before her, each one holding a single serving of Time Flies, one of the twins' newest creations that, according to them, could make time speed up for anyone who ingests it. George claimed it could make the most boring of events pass in a flash, but stopped touting the benefits it will have for Hogwarts students after Hermione lectured him on the importance of education.<p>

"This is why she's not in charge of marketing," he whispered to Fred.

Time Flies took months to create, with some assistance from both Remus and Sirius. After extensive testing, the twins were ready to roll it out except for one small problem.

"It's beyond foul," Fred said.

"Polyjuice foul?" Hermione had asked.

"Worse," George replied, filling a tiny dropper and handing it over.

She swallowed and promptly spit it out. It took several mouth rinses and a shot of firewhiskey – thank you, Fred – to finally get the taste out of her mouth.

"Why couldn't Remus and Sirius make it taste better?" she asked.

"They tried; they couldn't," George told her. "You know how awful Wolfsbane tastes, right?"

Hermione nodded.

"It's the same thing," George continued. Any attempt to sweeten this potion lessens the affects, so your boyfriend suffers through it."

"That's fine for him, but we can't expect customers to buy something that tastes like my cooking," Fred added.

"If you can find a way to make it taste better without altering the effects of the potion, you'll be our favorite person," George said.

"You told me I was your favorite person last week when I came up with the name 'Time Flies,'" she reminded him.

"We'll have a plaque made," he promised. "Not only will it name you Employee of the Month, but we'll name the plaque after you, too."

That was two weeks ago. She spent the several days researching the potion's ingredients, cross-referencing them with flavorful ingredients, even making a side trip to Hogwarts to talk with Professor Slughorn. Being back in the school was weird. She waited to feel a longing for the school, classes, library – the routine – but it never came. She was slightly disappointed until Remus pointed out that she now knows not going back was the right decision.

"Any luck?" Remus asked from his perch on the stool at the end of the table. She had been in the twins' workspace since 9 a.m., trying different concoctions. When she first took on the job, it was a puzzle. Now it was a quest. A quest, judging by the crazed look she had in her eyes, that wasn't going terribly well.

"Maybe," she said, jotting a note. "These need to sit for 24 hours and then we'll see."

Pushing back from the table, she smiled at Remus, who had arrived an hour ago from a meeting at the Ministry. She knew Kingsley had given up on Remus continuing his work with the aurors, but the newest Minister of Magic had a stubborn streak that rivaled Remus'. Judging by the thoughtful look on his face, this latest conversation had possibilities.

"So?" she asked.

"So what?"

She walked until she was standing in front of him, his legs on either side of her. Straightening his tie, she smiled at him. "What's the latest at the Ministry?"

He shrugged. "Politics. Too much talk, not enough action."

"And Kingsley wants your help?"

What he wanted was to repeal the anti-werewolf legislation that had made life for him and other werewolves beyond difficult and he wanted Remus' help creating new laws. While Remus supported the idea and the benefits it would have for others like him, he wasn't comfortable with being the face of the movement, something he knew Hermione couldn't understand.

He was perfectly aware that he was a werewolf, but when he was younger, it helped him control the worst of his violent outbursts if he thought of the monster, of Moony, as a separate entity. It kept him sane until he had friends who understood. To give that up now … Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe it would make his life easier, but what if she was wrong? With her, he had everything he ever wanted. Was it wrong to want to do everything he could to keep it that way?

He tucked apiece of hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck, smiling as she sighed and leaned closer. It was amazing how something so small, so simple, never failed to center him.

"He has some ideas and I'm mulling it over," he replied.

"Do you need a sounding board?" she asked.

"Eventually."

She nodded. She wanted to press, to make him talk to her now, but the other part of her, the part that was learning what a meant to be half a couple, understood he needed to wrap his head around the conversation before he shared it with her. Leaning forward until she was resting against his chest. "Whenever you're ready, you know where to find me."

Pushing away, she tidied up her workspace, leaving a note for Fred and George not to touching anything, checking the time to make sure they weren't running late. Her birthday dinner at the Burrow wasn't until tomorrow, but Ginny got back from Hogwarts tonight and, like Ron said, she wanted everyone to go out that night.

"When you say 'go out,' do you mean leave the house?" Remus had asked, looking rather uncomfortable with the idea.

"Going out usually means transporting oneself out of their place of residence," she replied.

"What's the big deal?" Harry had asked. "You and Sirius go to pubs all the time."

"Pubs," Remus stressed. "Where one can sit, have a drink and a conversation without having to scream to be heard."

"He's not a fan of the noise, love," Sirius had whispered to Hermione later. "It's loud, it's crowded. This close to the full moon, his senses are already on overdrive. Going to a place Ginny recommends …"

He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't have to. Unbeknownst to Remus, Hermione had owled Ginny to arrange a private gathering of music and alcohol at Grimmauld Place instead; partly to be a good mate, but also to test if she could keep a secret from Remus.

So far, so good.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

Not so good.

"I was thinking about last night."

He cocked his head and studied her. Part of him knew she wasn't being completely truthful, but he also got the sense that what she was keeping from him wasn't that big of a deal and the best thing to do would let it go. He was already apprehensive about the night ahead; no need to add to it.

"It was enjoyable," he agreed, smiling as her eyes narrowed.

"Enjoyable?" she repeated. "If I remember correctly, you're exact words were 'You are incredible,' mixed in with some prayers to a higher being and a little bit of begging."

"Feeling smug, are you?"

She grinned. "Darling, it's not like you're expected to be incredible every single time. I mean, a man of your age does need to rest every now and then."

That did it. He launched off the stool, tackling her against the wall, his arms gripping her arms as he hoisted her up until they were eye level. "You don't want to start something you can't finish," he threatened softly, his eyes dark as he took in the triumphant look on her face.

"Where's the fun in that?" she asked, wrenching out of his grasp to grab his head and kiss him, her ankles locking behind his waist.

He sank his fingers into her hair and tangled his tongue with hers. He would never get enough of her, could never get enough of her. It was insane how much he ached for her after only a few hours apart. He didn't know how he went so long with taking her, claiming her. To think of the months he denied himself … never again. She was his. She would always be his.

"I love you," he whispered fiercely.

"I love you," she replied breathlessly.

She opened for him, giving him complete access as his hands explored her body, the strength of his body keeping hers pinned against the wall as his hands palmed her breasts, fingers pinching her nipples until she moaned.

"REMUS JOHN LUPIN!"

He jumped away from Hermione, instinctively grabbing her to keep her from falling, before turning to face the person that had screeched: Molly Weasley. The short, round woman stood in the doorway, hands on her hips; her sons behind her looking apologetic.

"We tried to stop her and –"

Molly marched toward them, her face as red as her hair. "How dare you take advantage of her?!"

"Molly," Remus started.

"And you!" she cried, turning to the twins. "You knew about this?"

"Mum, we -"

Molly reached out and grabbed Hermione, pulling her from Remus' grasp. The change in him was immediate. That move transformed the man from embarrassed to angry, placating to incensed.

"Let go of her now." His voice was low, but the threat was there. Molly reacted automatically, dropping Hermione's hand, her mouth dropping open as the girl she considered a daughter rushed to Remus' side, wrapping her arms around him.

"Mrs. Weasley, please," she started.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Hermione?" the woman asked. "What can you possibly say to explain this? You are a smart girl! Why would you throw away your future on -"

"STOP IT!" Hermione screamed. "I did not throw my life away; I found it! This is the man I love, the man I will spend the rest of my life with – and he's the man that saved your son from being killed by Death Eaters. You will not insult him!"

She had the decency to blush at that, but her face remained disapproving and disappointed. Remus was silent, all of him focused on not losing control of the situation. He wanted to whisk Hermione away, to hide her. The need to protect his mate was killing him. His hands shook with the effort it took to stay in that room.

"Molly," he said, his jaw clenched as he struggled to remain calm. "I am sorry you had to find out like this, but it's true. I love Hermione. She loves me."

"She's 18, Remus! She doesn't know what love is."

"Mum - "

"You will stay out of this, boys!"

Hermione could feel Remus' frustration, his anger. He was embarrassed for her. Scared for her. Hurt for her. Squeezing his hand, she let go to undo the top three buttons of her shirt, pulling it slightly off her shoulder so Molly could see her scar.

The older woman gasped.

"I did not want to tell you this way," Hermione told her sadly. "I wanted to come to you like a daughter, to find the words that would prove to you how happy I am."

"Hermione - "

"No," she interrupted. "I know what you are going to say. Before you do, you need to know I chose this. I did it, not him. He was willing to spend the rest of his life suffering, letting the werewolf destroy the man, so I could love what he calls a normal life. It was killing him! You saw him!"

The witch was quiet.

Letting go of Remus, Hermione approached Molly, taking her hands and squeezing, the gesture begging the woman to understand. "He wasn't going to tell me," she said. "I figured it out and I confronted him. I told him I wanted him. I made the first move. He didn't have a choice. He never did. He's mine. Always."

Molly's eyes filled with tears, her hands shaking as she gripped Hermione's.

"I don't know how my mum would react," Hermione told her. "I'm guessing she'd be shocked, confused. We'd yell. We'd cry. But she would come around eventually, I know that. She couldn't see how happy he makes me and not love him for it.

"Please," she whispered desperately, her voice so soft only Molly could hear. "Please don't be mad. Please try to understand and be happy for me." Her eyes filled with tears. "Please don't hate me. I don't want to lose another mother."

That did it. The three men watched, amazed, as Molly burst into tears and gathered Hermione in her arms, swaying side to side. "My girl, my girl," she whispered soothingly.

Remus didn't know what to do. The threat was gone. It disappeared the moment Molly hugged Hermione, but this … Watching the two women weep, he almost wished that the redhead would start yelling again. He knew how to react to that. Looking at Fred and George for guidance, the pair just shook their heads, flabbergasted.

"Welcome to the family, mate," Fred said.

**I love Molly Weasley. I love how much she cares for her family, for Harry, for Hermione. I loved that she got to kick ass in the final battle. While she would understandably freak out about her honorary daughter being in love with a werewolf nearly 20 years older than her, I choose to believe she would eventually be happy for her. Or maybe I'm just a sap. Either way, in my stories, Molly is supportive. **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N - So I took I few days from this story to work on another one (one with characters I created). I haven't confessed to my writing partner that the reason she hasn't seen much from me these past few weeks is that I'm busy writing love stories about Harry Potter characters, although I tell myself it's a form of writing exercise, right? **

**Right. :)**

**As always, everything related to Harry Potter does not belong to me.**

* * *

><p>"You are amazing," he announced. She looked up from where she was sitting on the edge of her bed, slipping on a pair of low-heeled black sandals and smiled.<p>

"I keep telling you," she replied with a wink.

He laughed, tackling her, ignoring her squeals of protest as he kissed her, pouring all of his emotions from the last few hours into the press of his lips against hers. Molly had hugged him before she left the twins' store; a fierce pull of him against her that was both hopeful – "You take care of her," she had commanded – and ominous – "or you'll have to deal with me."

Fred and George had snickered, the image of their mother making a six-foot-two werewolf quiver in fear making them temporarily forget her anger with them at keeping the relationship a secret. Everyone breathed easier when she left for home, though tomorrow night's dinner could be awkward.

"What will your dad say?" Remus had asked, not wanting to picture the always-cheerful Arthur Weasley as anything but, well, happy.

"Oh, you know dad," George had said.

He did and he knew the man loved Hermione as much as he loved Ginny, a concern he shared with Hermione when they got home. She was patient – to a point.

"Remus, I'm not clairvoyant. I can't tell you what he'll do," she exclaimed.

"I just don't want to make things uncomfortable for you," he said, pacing around his room. "I know how much the Weasleys mean to you and if I was responsible for causing a rift between you -"

She had no choice, at least that's what she told herself when she jumped off his bed and into his arms, tackling him to the floor, where she tore his clothes to change the subject. She left him there, smiling and slightly out of breath, and went to her room to get ready for the night ahead.

"Remus," she said now, pulling away from him. "We can't."

He pressed his lips to her collarbone. "We can. We have."

"Everyone will be here soon."

"So tell them we'll meet them later," he replied, intrigued with the tiny row of buttons on the front of her dress. A flick of his fingers and two popped open, leaving more of her gorgeous skin on display.

"You'll see Ginny tonight," he murmured, his words somewhat muffled as he licked above the swell of her breast.

"Hmm?"

He chuckled. "I want to make sure you have something worthy to tell her." Sliding off the bed until he was kneeling on the floor, he ran his hands down her legs to grasp her ankles. Tugging gently, he pulled until her legs were over his shoulders, his mouth directly where he wanted to be.

"Don't try to tell me you don't want me," he whispered. "I can smell you."

She bit her lip, arching as he slid one finger inside her knickers, lightly exploring her wet heat as he rested his head on her thigh. Why was she fighting this? All she wanted. Being with him, connected to him, made her feel whole. The horrors of the war, the nightmares that followed, the uncertainty of the future – all of that disappeared when she was with him. He made her believe that everything would be all right.

"Hermione?" he questioned, one large hand curving underneath her knickers to slowly slide them down her legs.

She let out her breath. "Hurry," she urged.

He laughed quietly, his tongue diving in to taste her. "No."

* * *

><p>"You minx!"<p>

Hermione had just finished setting her dress to rights when Ginny burst in to her room, her blue eyes flashing in accusation. Harry and Ron followed, Harry looking exasperated and Ron … well, he was trying not to look anywhere for fear of seeing something he didn't want to see.

"Ginny!" Hermione cried, rushing forward to grab her friend in a hug, but the redhead wasn't having it, pushing away.

"You will not distract me!" she shouted. "I had to find out from my mother, _my mother_, that you have been shagging Remus Lupin? Me, the one who had to listen to all your frustrated sexual fantasies about the oh-so-quiet professor, had to learn he's your freaking mate from a woman who -"

"You've had fantasies about me?" Remus asked, walking out of Hermione's bathroom, an arrogant smile on his face. "Have we acted on any of them yet?"

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned.

"Seriously, Remus," Harry added, his face turning red. "There's only so much I can take."

Turning, Ginny pushed her boyfriend and her brother out of the door. "Out! I need to talk to Hermione alone! That means you, too, _professor_."

Remus grinned and pulled Hermione to him, kissing her deeply, before following the boys out the door. Ginny watched the whole thing with wide eyes.

"That's hot," she whispered as he closed the door. Running to Hermione's bed, she jumped on it and sat, legs crossed and back straight, looking very much like a young child on Christmas morning. "OK, girlfriend. Spill it."

Hermione laughed and jumped on the bed, too, bring her knees to her chest as she grinned at her friend.

"Judging by the idiotic expression on your face and the mark on your neck, you are beyond thrilled with this turn of events," Ginny remarked.

Hermione nodded.

"Good. Let's skip all the mushy nonsense and get to the good stuff. What is he like in bed?"

"Amazing."

Ginny clapped her hands. "I knew it! It's always the quiet ones! Is he all serious and methodical, or does he let the wolf out to play and pounce?"

"Both," Hermione answered smugly.

Ginny leaned over to smack Hermione on the arm. "You bitch!" Flouncing back on Hermione's bed, she stared dreamily into space for a moment.

"Stop trying to picture it!" Hermione cried.

"I can't help it! This is the man you have harbored secret feeling for since you were 13 and the fact that he had them, too … it's better than any romance book." She sat up again. "Give me details."

Hermione laughed. "No."

"Come on!" she cried. "I tell you everything!"

"And I never ask! What does that tell you?"

"That until a few weeks ago, you had nothing to contribute to the conversation. Come on, Granger; spill. Who made the first move?"

"I did."

Ginny laughed. "I love it! Did he try to talk you out of it?"

"Again and again."

"Oh, Remus," she shook her head. "He never stood a chance, did he?"

* * *

><p>"You do know they're talking about you?" Sirius asked Remus, who was leaning against the study wall, pretending to watch the twins demonstrate their newest product to Harry and Ron, while secretly wondering what Hermione was telling Ginny.<p>

"I'm well aware," he replied.

Studying his friend, Sirius took in his relaxed features and shit-eating grin.

"You bastard," he said admiringly. "You made sure to leave her all happy to get a good review, didn't you?"

Remus raised his glass of firewhiskey in a toast. "There's a reason why I'm the smart one."

Clinking glasses, the two friends drank; Remus in effort to get in a relaxed state of mind before heading out for the night, Sirius because … well, there wasn't much else he did these days. He occasionally toyed with the idea of seeking a woman's company, but he wasn't interested in anything beyond one night's pleasure, that was, until he'd come across Hermione and Remus. They were so damn cute together, so _right_. Maybe his friend was on to something. Maybe tying yourself to one person for the rest of your life wasn't the death sentence he always imagined it to be.

"So, all-knowing and wise one, when are you going to make an honest woman of her?" Sirius asked, smirking as Remus choked on his drink.

"What?" he gasped.

"Marriage," Sirius said. "You don't honestly believe Molly Weasley is going to be satisfied with the two of you living in sin?"

"We're not – she's my mate, Sirius. I can't breathe without her."

"That's nice," he replied. "I'd definitely include that line in your proposal."

Remus shook his head. Marriage? He knew it would happen … eventually. They were already committed to each other, so the question and the ring and the ceremony – it was just a formality, right? No big deal.

So why were his hands shaking?

"Moony, relax," Sirius said, pounding his friend on the back in a somewhat comforting manner. "This isn't something you need to do today."

"Well, we can't anyway," Remus replied. "It's illegal for werewolves to marry witches."

Sirius shook his head. "Don't even try to use that as an excuse. The laws are changing. If you would stop being so stubborn and agree to help Kingsley, you could have your ring on Hermione's finger by Christmas."

Remus opened his mouth to respond, but he heard the click of Hermione's door openings, followed by two girls giggling as they made their way downstairs. "We'll talk later, Padfoot."

"Agreed. If Ginny Weasley gets to know the details of your sex life, I want some dirt on Hermione, too. It's only fair."

Remus glared at him. "I'm not talking to you about Hermione."

Sirius finished his drink. "We'll see."

* * *

><p>"I love you," he whispered, his breath warm in her ear as he spooned her from behind, one arm tight around her waist. It was almost three in the morning and they had just stumbled into bed. Remus took the news of their night in with newfound enthusiasm for every drinking game the twins could come up with, demonstrating that while Sirius was often the one nursing a drink, Remus was the one who could hold his liquor - and more.<p>

"Do you think Sirius will be OK on the floor?" She mumbled, the fuzziness in her brain slowly clearing thanks to the potion Remus made her drink after he shagged her against the wall, her lack of inhibitions pushing him to drive her higher and harder. She knew there would be bruises in the morning. She also knew he would love that.

She refused to admit that she loved it, too.

"He has George to keep him company if he wakes up," Remus replied.

"Mmmpf."

He kissed her bare shoulder and tried to sleep, but the full moon was only a few days away. Sleep wouldn't come easy.

"Sweetheart?" he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"What fantasies have you had about me?"

She giggled and snuggled further in his arms. "Oh, the usual schoolgirl and the professor kind of thing."

"Really?" He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Mmm-hmm. When you used to lean against your desk during a lecture, all I wanted to do was climb on to your lap and kiss you until you lost that serious expression," she giggled again, the light sound ending on a hiccup. Rolling over to face him, she rubbed her nose against his. "Funny, isn't it? You knew I was yours back then, but only saw me as someone to protect and all I wanted to do was ravish you."

He slid his hands down to cup her ass, pulling her firmly into him, smiling at her gasp as he slid inside her. Shifting to keep his movements slow, shallow, be bent his head down to nibble on her neck. She panted softly, her breath warm against his skin.

"I can never get enough of you," she confessed.

He moved so she was on her back, her legs around her waist. Raising himself up on his forearms, he stared to move a little faster, a little harder.

"I can never get enough of you," he told her, his forehead pressed against hers, their eyes locked. He could see the change in her, from drowsy to excited, excited to eager. She gripped her shoulders, her breaths coming faster.

"Hermione," he groaned. "Sweetheart, please."

She knew he was barely holding on, waiting for her to find her pleasure before he'd let go. She was close, so close, but she wasn't ready to let go. He looked amazing like this. Strong. Intense.

Hers.

"I love you, Remus Lupin," she whispered fiercely against his lips.

He slid one hand between their bodies to touch her, his fingers caressing the bundle of nerves. She sucked in her breath. She was so close.

"Come with me," she begged just before the coil snapped and she plunged into the pleasure, Remus following on a shout, his lips locked on his mark, where he nibbled and kissed until he could breathe again.

She was amazing. So brave. So smart. So incredibly sexy.

His.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: It's Leafey's birthday! Happy, happy birthday! I saw your comment and thought "Hermione's birthday dinner would make a wonderful birthday surprise for someone who has been so supportive of my babbling." Here's hoping you agree!**

**Oh, Sampdoria, a meant to tell you I totally agree with what you said about Ron. He did deserve someone who loved him for him.**

**Someone (I'm sorry, I can't recall who; maybe it was a review on my other story) asked if I would ever consider a Fred, George and Hermione story. The answer is yes. Yes, I would. But let's finish this one first as abandoned fanfic stories make me grumble.**

**For legality reasons, I do not own anything related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>He felt like a teenager – and not in a good way.<p>

Walking to the Burrow, a clutch of flowers in his hand, Remus wished desperately to be anywhere but here. He looked toward the love of his life and his best friend for sympathy, but they were too busy arguing. Still.

"I said I was sorry, Sirius! What else do you want me to do?"

"I want you to promise that it will never happen again!"

She stopped walking, forcing Remus to stop, too, as she was clutching his hand that didn't hold flowers. "It was a piece of bacon!"

"It was the last piece of bacon and I called it!"

"You can't call bacon!"

"Can, too." Sirius grumbled.

"That is the dumbest thing I ever heard of!"

"I think the fact that you suddenly like bacon is the dumbest thing I ever heard of. What were you thinking, Remus? Have you noticed how much she eats now?"

Hermione gasped. "Are you calling me fat?"

"No. I'm just pointing out that ever since you got that little love bite, you're appetite has increased. In more ways than one, I might add." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Sirius Orion Black, I will kill you," she growled, dropping Remus' hand and approaching the dark-haired wizard with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Hey!" Remus shouted, shaking himself out of his woes to focus to grab Hermione by the waist. "Sirius, I asked you not to bait her around the full moon, especially her first full moon. She's not used to the changes yet and is a little off."

"Are you calling me crazy?!"

"No, sweetheart. You are as patient and calm as you've always been," he replied, kissing the top of her head.

"Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?" Sirius muttered.

"Enough! We are almost at the Burrow and if you don't mind, I would like to focus on the fact that there will be several people there who just learned about Hermione and I, and may possibly want to kill me, so you'll understand that I don't have time to referee your childish behavior.

"You will stop talking about bacon, Padfoot, and have empathy for Hermione. And you, my love, will realize that change is not something Sirius handles well, so please have patience."

Grabbing the flowers he had dropped on the ground, he muttered a curse to make them new again and stomped to the front door, waiting for Sirius and Hermione to join him before knocking.

"What got into him?" Sirius asked.

"Full moon," Hermione replied.

Taking Hermione's hand, he helped her navigate the brick pathway, as she insisted on wearing heels, telling herself the extra inches would give her confidence. "He needs to find a new excuse."

* * *

><p>Molly accepted the flowers with a smile, giving Remus a quick hug. He watched as she did the same for Sirius.<p>

_Did she hug him longer?_

Hermione swooped in for her hug and kiss, laughing as Molly called her beautiful. Arm-in-arm, the two walked back to the kitchen, leaving Remus to continue to the backyard alone.

"You know everyone here, Moony. It's the Order."

"I know."

"We've trusted each other with our lives."

"That was before I shagged their Golden Girl."

Sirius nodded sagely. "I told you to propose," he reminded him as they stepped outside.

Arthur Weasley was standing near the cluster of picnic tables, talking with Kingsbury Shacklebolt, Minerva McGonagall, and his oldest sons, Bill and Charlie. He looked up as Remus and Sirius walked outside, his smile of welcome fading slightly when he made eye contact with Remus.

"Are you going to walk into the fire?" Sirius asked.

"You don't have to be so damn cheery about this," Remus grumbled.

"Sure I do. For once, I'm the good guy. How often does that happen?"

Remus didn't respond, walking straight to the group of adults who, until recently, he considered friends. Judging by the look McGonagall had on her face, he didn't think his former professor would call him the same. Kingsley looked thoughtful while Bill and Charlie were almost gleeful.

"Good evening everyone. Arthur."

"Remus," he replied. "Where's my girl?"

"My girl -" he swallowed his automatic response whenever someone tried to lay claim on Hermione. "She's in the kitchen with Molly."

He nodded. "Excellent. Everyone, please excuse us for a moment. Remus, let's walk."

"Good luck, mate," Bill muttered.

Arthur was silent as they circled the house, leaving everyone behind. Remus stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide his clenched fists, all of his energy focused on staying relaxed. Arthur was going to yell, to lecture. He knew that. The faster he got it out there, the faster it would be over.

"I heard you had a bit of a shock with Molly yesterday," Arthur said.

Remus looked over to see the older wizard grinning slightly. "It wasn't my best moment," he replied.

"No, I imagine it wasn't." Waving his wand, Arthur conjured two chairs on the front lawn, gesturing for Remus to have a seat.

Sighing, Arthur looked at the man who helped keep his family safe during the war, the man who had apparently decided his surrogate daughter was now his. His wife may have a not-so-secret stash of romance books in the attic, but Arthur was the romantic in the family. He was aware of werewolf mating traditions, a fascinating and rare event. On one level, he was happy Remus found the person who completes him. The man deserved his happiness.

He just wished it wasn't with his Hermione.

"It's no secret that Molly and I had hoped Hermione would settle down with Ron or one of the twins," he began. "We love her as if she was our own – not as if, she _is_ ours – but it would have been nice to make it official."

"I'm sorry something that was decided before she and I even knew of the other's existence ruined your plans," Remus replied through gritted teeth.

Arthur sighed. "Don't get snippy, Remus. I know what tomorrow is. And I know this is not something either of you could control. I want to thank you for waiting as long as you did before making your claim. I can't imagine that was easy and I appreciate your sacrifice."

Remus didn't know what to say in return, so he nodded.

"She is of age, so I'm not going to lecture you about that," he continued. "I'm sure you're tired of hearing it – and the age difference."

"It's come up a time or two," he muttered.

Arthur chuckled. "And it will again. The people who know you and Hermione, who honestly care about you – they will be fine. Eventually. It will take time, but they'll get there."

"That's comforting; thank you."

"Of course, it would help if you would do the right thing and marry her. I know this generation likes to do things backwards, but a young woman shouldn't be living with two adult men, one of whom is her soul mate, without the legalities."

Remus ran his fingers through his hair. Leaning forward in his chair, he rested his elbows on his knees. "We haven't even been together for a full cycle, Arthur. It's a little soon to be discussing marriage, isn't it?"

"Perhaps, but then you've known she's yours for more than six years, correct?"

He had that gleam in his eye again. He looked suspiciously like the twins. Remus never thought he'd prefer Molly's yelling, but he could deal with that better than Arthur's quiet nudging.

"It's still illegal," Remus reminded him.

Arthur smiled indulgently. "For now."

Remus shook his head. He wasn't going to let it go, was he?

"Arthur, if I could sufficiently put into words how much I love Hermione Granger, I would, but there aren't enough in the English language," Remus said.

"That's lovely, Remus," he replied. "But I already know you love her. I saw it before she did."

"What?"

"My friend, you weren't the best at hiding your feelings. The rest of us were running around to protect Harry and you put Hermione first. You were always watching her; therefore I was always watching you. I had mentioned before how grateful I am that you waited to stake your claim. Please know that if you hadn't waited as long as you did the conversation that would have followed would not be as pleasant as the one we're having now."

"This is pleasant?"

Arthur laughed. "Of course. It's a lovely evening, our friends are here and we're celebrating the birthday of your true love. How can it be anything but pleasant?"

Pushing himself to his feet, Arthur turned to Remus and held out his hand. Remus quickly stood up.

"You are a good man, Remus. Hermione will be good for you and you will be good for her. Do not give me a reason to ever think differently."

Shaking his hand firmly, Arthur made the chairs disappear and walked away, whistling softly.

* * *

><p>"Are you all right?" Hermione whispered in Remus' ear. They were sitting at a picnic table, Hermione in-between Remus and Sirius. Dinner had just appeared and everyone was busy filling their plates, their attention diverted from them for the moment.<p>

"I'm fine," he whispered back. "How are you?"

She leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. "Fine," she replied, closing her eyes. She'd been tense all day; the full moon, Remus had said, but now she just wanted to sleep. Sitting up, she forced herself to be part of the conversations around her, jumping slightly when Remus rested his hand on her knee. He kept it there throughout dinner, his touch keeping her centered. He could feel her tense when it was time for presents, her reluctance to be the center of attention as Molly directed her to a chair next to a small table piled with gifts. She shot Remus a desperate look and he responded by conjuring a second chair and sitting beside her, one arm resting on the back of her chair, his fingers grazing her shoulder, as she unwrapped books, clothing and, her favorite gift, a collection of photographs of her, Harry and Ron from their years at Hogwarts.

"I forgot how big your teeth were!" Ron exclaimed, staring at a photo of the three of them after Harry's first Quidditch game first year.

"Thanks, Ronald," she replied, rolling her eyes, turning the pages slowly. There was a photo of the three of them hugging in the Great Hall at the end of second year and another of a jubilant Ron and a pouting Hermione; that must have been after Dumbledore excused final tests for the year. Remus smiled at the photo of the three of them dressed up for the Yule Ball and a group picture of Dumbledore's Army. There was a picture of the three of them sleeping on the couch in Sirius' house during a school vacation and another of Harry and Hermione tossing food into Ron's open mouth.

"What a lovely gift," Mrs. Weasley remarked. "Who is it from?"

McGonagall raised her hand. "Remus had owled me to see if we had any photos at Hogwarts, as you sacrificed yours when you left home, Hermione."

Hermione smiled at her, eyes shining with unshed tears. "This is amazing. Thank you, professor."

She smiled kindly. "Don't thank me. Thank Professor Lu – thank Remus."

Hermione turned toward Remus and kissed him lightly on the lips, their first public show of affection. Well, a deliberate public show of affection. "Thank you," she whispered when she pulled away.

"Anything for you," he whispered in response.

"Oi! Hermione, open ours next!" Fred cried, plopping a medium-sized box covered in purple paper in Hermione's lap.

"No!" Nearly everyone shouted, prompting Molly to rush into the house for the cake.

Fred turned to his brother. "We hang out with an ungrateful lot, George."

"That we do, Fred."

* * *

><p>The party was breaking up with Kingsley approached Remus and Hermione. The couple was sitting on top of one of the picnic tables, watching the twins' fireworks display.<p>

"Could I speak with the two of you? Privately?"

Nodding, Remus hopped off the table and helped Hermione down, holding on to her hand as they followed the new Ministry of Magic into the house. Gesturing for them to take a seat on the couch, he perched at the end of an armchair, his expression solemn as he studied them.

"I want to apologize first for putting you on the spot, Remus," he began.

"What does he -" Hermione started to say.

"This is not the time," Remus told Kingsley.

"It is the time. I understand your reluctance to come to work at the Ministry, given its views on werewolves in the past, but you have an opportunity to make a difference, Remus."

Hermione looked between the two men. "What is he talking about?"

Remus sighed. "He wants me to work at the Ministry to create new legislation that would benefit the werewolf community."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "That's wonderful! Remus, you would be the perfect person to speak out for the population and -" She stopped talking, knowing how much he would hate to make a part of him he hates, a part he tried to ignore most days, the focus of his working life. It was not fair. He would be the perfect person to help Kingsley, but at what cost? She squeezed his hand, a wordless gesture to let him know she supported his decision, whatever it may be. He leaned over to kiss her cheek in thanks.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "Actually, I was thinking the two of you could work together on this project."

"What?" Remus asked.

"She's your mate, you are hers. There's no one else who understands how werewolves feel more than you, Remus, and there's no other witch who understands werewolves better than Hermione. From what I understand, the two of you work best when you're together, so why not bring that dynamic to the Ministry?"

Hermione looked at Remus, her eyes wide. He was speechless.

Kingsley stood up. He wasn't a politician for nothing. He knew when to press forward and when to step back. Wishing Hermione a happy birthday, he clasped Remus on the shoulder.

"Please think about it," he said. "I'll be in touch."

**Thank you for reading! Pleasant dreams, everyone!**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

**A/N: This next chapter is sort of a filler as we shift gears in the story. I'm not sure if I like it or not. **

**There's some smut ahead, so please don't read if you are underage. **

**I do not own anything related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>Hermione giggled as she tried to push Remus away, but he captured her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head, running his free hand down her body.<p>

"You're supposed to be sleeping!"

"How can I sleep when I have the most beautiful woman in the world lying next to me?"

He ducked his head and kissed her, his tongue tracing her lips before sliding inside. She sighed and melted into his kiss. Remus' kisses were addictive. He could be soft, intimate one moment, deep and seductive the next. She never knew what to expect from him. Would he tease? Would he dominate?

He let go of her wrists, sighing as she brought her hands down to clasp his shoulders. Their mouths mated as she slid her hands lower, exploring the hard ridges of his torso. She ran her nails over his flat stomach, smiling as he groaned.

"Be careful," he growled against her lips. "This close to the full moon … I can't promise I'll be gentle."

Pushing herself up so she could flip him over, Hermione scrambled to get on top of Remus. "Who says I want you to be?"

He smiled, a wolfish look on her face, before he grabbed her hips, lifted her slightly and slammed her down on his length, his cock filling her so hard, she screamed. Sitting up, he tangled his hands in her hair as she wrapped her legs around his waist, rocking deeper into him. He kissed the tendons in her neck, licking, nibbling. Fire shot through her veins.

"Hermione," he moaned his hips thrusting to meet hers. "Harder! I need you -"

He didn't finish the sentence, wrapping his arms around her, swinging his legs out of bed and standing, still inside her. He strode to his desk and pulled out of her, smiling at her moan of frustration. Kissing her briefly on the lips, he spun her around, and pushed until the top half of her body was flat on the desk, feet on the floor. Kicking her legs wider, he wrapped an arm around her waist and thrust inside her.

"Remus!"

Her hands wanted to claw at something as he pounded inside her, but the surface of the desk was smooth. She'd lost count the number of times she's been with Remus. Thirty? Fifty? They could never get enough of each other, but this time, tonight, was different. Even when he was rough, he was gentle, but tonight it was all Moony. He wasn't making love to her. He wasn't having sex. He was fucking.

And it was amazing.

She could hear the slap of their bodies as he moved, thrust, inside her, his strength pushing her further into the cool wood. It was uncomfortable and it wasn't at the same time.

"Yes," she hissed, pushing her hips back to meet his thrusts. He responded by moving faster, harder, his grip on her waist tightening as his free hand slid down to find her clit, his fingers rubbing the pulsing flesh.

"I want you to scream, Hermione," he demanded, his strokes never slowing, his fingers never stopping. She could barely hear his command over the roar in her head. "I want you to scream my name when you come. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she gasped, the palms of her hands hitting the desk as he changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting a spot that made her close her eyes and moan.

"Do it!" he yelled.

"Remus … please … Remus, don't stop … REMUS!"

She detonated, red spots appearing behind her eyes as she convulsed, her name a constant chant on his lips as he kept moving. He didn't slow his thrusts, his fingers didn't stop exploring. He kept going, pushing her higher. She was so tight, so wet. The way she gripped him was driving him insane, but he was going to make her come again.

"I can't," she gasped.

"You will," he growled, tightening his grip around her waist. She'd have bruises later. The idea of his marks on her skin pleased him. He wanted her so much. She shifted to stand on the tips of her toes, making him sink deeper. He felt her walls grip him, heard her breathing break as he thrust. She was pleading, begging, her hands fisted on the desk. "So close … Hermione …" And then his world exploded and he held on to the one thing that could keep him grounded.

Her.

* * *

><p>"Does it hurt?"<p>

He lifted his head from his pillow to look at Hermione. She was lying next to him, her head on his chest, one hand tracing his scars, her movement slowing over the biggest one; the one that made him a monster.

"The scar?"

"No. Changing."

"Yes."

"But you don't hurt yourself anymore, right? Because of the Wolfsbane?"

He sighed. "No, I know who I am. But becoming Moony and then myself; it takes a toll."

She nodded. "Why the cage? If you have control over Moony, why lock yourself up every full moon?"

She could feel him shrug. "I want to be sure I don't hurt anyone."

"Do you want me there tomorrow? When you change?"

He shook his head. "No. If you could come after, I know that will help, but I don't want you to see me …"

She sat up. "I saw you once before, remember?"

"That was enough," he said flatly, thinking back to that night in the Forbidden Forest. He knew what was going to happen, saw the horror and fear on her face as the moon rose. He could live a thousand lifetimes and never forget how helpless he felt, knowing he was responsible for putting her life in danger.

"Remus -"

"Hermione, please," his voice was weary.

"I just … I don't know why you hate Moony so much," she said quietly. "If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here."

His gaze narrowed. "What do you mean?"

She gave him a small smile. "Do you honestly think you would have me like this without Moony claiming me as his mate? Remus, I love you, but if fate had left us up to you, and you alone, you'd die a spinster."

He glared at her. "I prefer the term bachelor."

"Fair enough," she laughed, leaning forward to press her lips against his forehead. "An extremely sexy bachelor, but alone nonetheless. In my opinion, you owe the wolf a so much gratitude for bringing us together."

Tugging until she was in his arms again, he kissed the top of her head. "I'll tell him you said thank you."

* * *

><p>"Do you have a preference on reading material?"<p>

Remus looked over from his perch in his bed, a book in his hands. Hermione was sitting cross-legged in front of his bookshelves, wearing one of his old T-shirts, her hair piled in a messy knot on top of her head. It was early afternoon. He had managed to sleep until 10 a.m. and enjoyed breakfast in bed with his amazing woman. She insisted on a quiet day leading up to that night, kicking Sirius and Harry out of the house so he could rest.

"Reading material?"

She looked over. "Last month I read to you. Do you not remember?"

His brow furrowed as he tried to evoke memories of that night. "Sorry, sweetheart; it's a bit of a blur."

She shrugged. "That's OK. It was _Pride & Prejudice_, which I don't think Sirius particularly cared for, so I thought I'd switch it up."

He smiled. "You're going to read to me again?"

"Of course. I'm not an Anigmus like Sirius, but I need to do something."

Remus leaned against his headboard and sighed happily. She was going to read to him. She was going to spend her night in a cold, drafty basement and read to him because she knew it would sooth the restlessness.

"I love you," he told her.

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p>"I thought I requested the sex book," Sirius grumbled, looking at the two books Hermione had on the kitchen table. It was nearing 8 p.m. Remus had moved to the basement an hour ago after standing in the kitchen for five minutes with his arms around her, not moving nor talking, but just breathing in her scent. He had pulled away reluctantly, pressed one soft kiss to her lips and said good bye.<p>

Hermione was prepping her tray for the night. Tea. Water. Biscuits and the two books: _The Complete Sonnets and Poems _by William Shakespeare and a worn book of fairy tales she found under Remus' bed. The inscription inside was from his mother. When she held it up with a questioning look on her face, he had simply nodded his assent.

"I didn't want you to get too riled up," she teased, hip checking Sirius as she glanced around the kitchen to make sure she had everything she needed. Satisfied all was well, she sat at the kitchen table.

"You OK, love?"

She looked over ay Sirius and smiled. "Fine, thank you. Just thinking."

Sirius got a glass of water for himself and joined Hermione. "I noticed a certain werewolf looked less tense this evening."

She blushed.

"Come, love, I'm only teasing," Sirius said, leaving over to ruffle the top of her head. "I know you are good for him, in more ways than physical. I know the past month has had its ups and downs, but I, for one, couldn't be happier for Remus and for you. The two of you … you just fit. I haven't seen a pair better suited for each other since James and Lily."

"I love him," Hermione said, a small smile on her lips.

"Sometimes it's as simple as that."

Nodding, she picked up his water and drank. Sirius watched and waited. He might not have a deep connection to the witch, but he did know her and she had something on her mind. If he was patient, she would blurt it out.

"Kingsley wants Remus and I to work at the Ministry."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at that. "Doing what?"

"I assume we'd be part of the Care of Magical Creatures Division. Kingsley wants to eradicate the anti-werewolf legislation, and wants our help writing new legislation."

Sirius nodded; his face thoughtful. He was aware that Kingsley wanted to remove the prejudice that had clouded the Ministry for decades and supported the man 100 percent. He always likes Kingsley, but at this moment he loved him. Something like this would be amazing for Remus. His friend could finally have the life he was meant to live. "Are you going to do it?"

Hermione shrugged. "I want to. I'm not so sure about Remus. He had worked so hard to separate the wolf from the man that something like this, no matter how great the result, could sever the split. He won't say it, but it scares him."

"He's more than a werewolf, Hermione."

She looked up, her eyes flashing. "I know that. You know that. Harry knows that. The only person who doesn't, who refuses to acknowledge, it Remus. He is so damn stubborn!"

Sirius shook his head, amused. Hermione calling someone stubborn …

"Give him time, love. He'll make the right decision."

She sighed. "I hope so."

The pair smiled at each other, each of them thinking of the man who was likely pacing the floor below them.

"So," Hermione said, shaking off the gravity of the moment. "I have one last present to open."

Reaching under her chair, she pulled out the twins' present and sat on the table. Sirius leaned forward, his eyes glowing with curiosity.

"Count of three?" he asked.

"One -"

"Two -"

"Three."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N – So I started reading an old fanfic – The Last Marauder by Resa Aureus – and it is so good! Seriously, I really hope this person has a book deal in real life because her work is amazing! There are times I feel great about what I'm writing and times I feel like it sucks and, well, after spending most of the day reading her stuff, I'm going through the "This completely sucks" phase.**

**Writing is like that isn't it? You give and give and give and never know if it loves you as much as you love it. **

**So, moving along with this story. We've been rather angsty as of late. Everyone knows about Remus and Hermione, so that's pretty much over, but there's still some time before happily ever after … if Remus finally gets out of his head and lets himself be happy.**

**As always, I own nothing related to Harry Potter. I just like to play with some of the characters.**

* * *

><p>She leaned against the cool cement wall, stretching her legs in front of her. For two hours she had sat in the oversized armchair, reading fairy tales and sonnets to a quiet werewolf and lazy black dog; a dog who was now curled on a large cushion, sound asleep.<p>

"He's not the best company, is he?" she asked the wolf, who cocked his head in response.

Sirius had insisted Hermione stay away from the cage, her chair far enough away to give her time to run should the werewolf get out. She protested, but he told her that was Remus' request and he would not put her in danger. Glancing at the dozing dog, Hermione stood quietly and tiptoed to the cage, the battered book of fairy tales still in her hand. The wolf raised his head as she approached, but his body stayed still.

Conjuring another cushion, Hermione settled on the floor, barely a foot from the cage. She thought she'd be nervous. She had never been this close to Remus as a werewolf before, but instead of anxious she felt at ease. She knew Moony. If she had met him in the woods, she was convinced she'd feel the same. He could never, would never, hurt her.

"Is this what it felt like for you when you first saw me?" she whispered. "I know I'm yours but the knowing … it's stronger somehow, like something inside me clicked."

She leaned closer, her eyes locked with the wolf. Deep amber studied whiskey-colored brown.

"He's wrong to hate you," she said. "And you're wrong to hate the man. If I can love both of you, surely you can learn to do the same?"

The wolf growled. It was low, barely audible, but it made Hermione smile. The animal was just as stubborn as the man. Unlucky for them, she was more obstinate than the two of them put together. His eyes narrowed, as if he heard her thoughts and disagreed.

"Sorry, but you chose me," she reminded him, waiting to see if he'd respond. When he laid his head on his paws, his eyes flicking to the book and back at her, she sighed. "Fine. We'll read."

A paw bushed through the bars to rest on her foot. Petting it absently, she paused at _Little Red Riding Hood_.

"Why not?" she muttered and began reading.

* * *

><p>"I should hurt you."<p>

Hermione opened her eyes slowly and focused on Sirius, who was leaning over her with a dark look on his face.

"Hello to you, too."

"Don't," he snapped, bending down to grab her hands, hoisting her to her feet. Using his wand, he made the chair and cushions disappear, and the tray of food and drinks float to the kitchen, all the while pulling her to the stairs, not saying a word as he stomped up the stairs.

Dragging her to the kitchen, he pushed her into a chair and walked to the stove to set the kettle for tea. She watched, fascinated, as he leaned against the counter, his back to her, breathing heavily.

"Tell me you took something."

"What?"

"Tell me one of those bottles Fred and George gave you was Liquid Luck or something like it and that's why I woke up to see you snuggling with Remus this morning."

"Um … I snuggle with Remus most mornings."

"NOT WHEN HE'S A WEREWOLF!" Sirius spun from the counter and marched to the table. He was furious. He was angry at her, mad at himself. He had never left Remus to fend for himself during a full moon (well, aside from his years in Azkaban, but that couldn't be helped), and last night he had fallen asleep – _asleep!_ – and woke to find his best friend lying outside of his cage, in the middle of the floor, around Hermione. For a split second, he feared she was dead. When he realized both were asleep, he slumped in relief before rage overtook him.

"I thought you were the smart one!"

Hermione was confused. "I didn't open the cage, Sirius."

"What?"

"I didn't open the cage. I confess I sat next to it and, well, I guess held his paw, but I didn't open the cage. I would never do that to Remus. Or you."

He slumped in a chair, color slowly returning to his face.

Leaning forward until her forehead was pressed against his, she closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of him. Sirius Black. If anyone had told her that a wrongfully-accused escaped convict would eventually be the older brother she always wanted, she would have told them she was crazy. "I love you, you idiot."

Letting out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, he raised his hand to circle her neck, keeping her still for another minute. "Love you, too."

The tea kettle started whistling, making witch and wizard jump in alarm, accidentally banging their foreheads together in the process. Harry walked in just then to find both of them rubbing their heads and groaning.

"I don't want to know," he said, walking to the stove to take the kettle off the stove.

* * *

><p>"I forgot to wish you a happy birthday," Sirius said around a mouthful of eggs.<p>

Hermione looked up from her own breakfast and smiled. "Yeah, you were too busy yelling at me."

"So it's just another day," he replied, taking a drink of his tea.

It was nearly 11 a.m. Harry was at work and Remus was in bed, sleeping off the exhaustion of the night. Sirius was wide awake, thanks to sleeping most of the night before, and Hermione was wired. There was no other word. She knew she should be exhausted, but she wasn't. Instead she felt … invigorated. Not go out and conquer the world, but more like she took a step in the right direction last night and that, after months of perplexity, felt great.

"Anyway. Birthday. I was thinking of redoing my bedroom."

"That's my birthday present?"

"In a sense. I was thinking of moving my bedroom to the second floor so you and Remus could have the third floor to yourselves."

Hermione stared at him. "I can't kick you out of your room, Sirius."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm vacating it. Let's face it; Harry isn't going to be living here much longer, not after Ginny graduates from Hogwarts, and you and Remus have an annoying habit of forgetting silencing charms most of the time – bravo, by the way; some of your moves sound extremely impressive -"

"Shut it."

He smiled. "I want you and Remus to live happily ever after, but I want the two of you with me while you do it. Separate floor, separate living space, yeah? Almost like having your own place?"

He said it casually, but she knew better. Ever since his escape from Azkaban, Sirius has held tight to the people he loves. Alcohol. Women. They were temporary distractions for his loneliness, for the madness he kept at bay for years. It wasn't until Remus gave up his small cottage to move into Grimmauld Place that the haunted look began to leave Sirius' eyes. He laughed now, he joked more often, but he wasn't the man he used to be. Too much time had passed. Too much violence, too much anger, but he could handle that as long as he had his friends nearby. He'd do anything, say anything, pay anything, if they would stay.

Hermione rested her hand on top of his. "I think it's a fantastic idea."

"Of course it is. I came up with it, didn't I?"

She rolled her eyes. "We'll have to talk to Remus, of course."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll miss not having me across the hall, but you can talk him into it. If not, just do that thing that makes him -"

"SHUT UP, SIRIUS!"

* * *

><p>Remus felt like he was flying. Not flying on a broomstick flying, but floating in the air. It was almost like swimming but he wasn't wet. He couldn't feel anything but the air and it was … lulling. Yes, that's the word.<p>

"Mmm."

Hermione grinned and pressed harder on Remus' shoulders, the lotion automatically warming as he touched his skin, the ingredients soothing his sore muscles. She wasn't sure what to think we she saw the collection of bottles from the twins, each lotion labeled with a different purpose – she especially wished Sirius hadn't seen the one labeled 'Seduction' – but when she put a dab of the one branded 'Soothing' on her wrist and immediately felt her muscles melt, she knew Remus would benefit from the contents.

"Hermione?" he mumbled.

"It better be."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking care of you," she replied, shifting from her perch on her knees above him, bringing her hands to the middle of his back. Judging by his groan, this was a good spot to focus on for the next few minutes.

"You're the best," he sighed.

"Thank you."

She continued her ministrations, focusing on his arms and legs, smiling as his muscles practically dissolved under her hands. Fred and George, she decided, were amazing and she was going to throw herself at them the next time she saw them and then buy every bottle of their 'Soothing' lotion.

"Remus?"

"Yes?" he slurred.

"Could you roll over, please?"

"Don't want to."

"I'm going to do the other side."

He lifted his head slightly. "Why?"

"So you won't hurt anymore."

He shifted, his breath hitching slightly as he rolled over. The content look she expected to see on his face wasn't there. Instead, he looked pensive.

"What's wrong?" she asked, brushing his hair back.

"I'm going to hurt again next month," he sighed.

"Then I'll do this next month."

He opened his eyes. The flatness in them made her nervous. "Remus?"

"You deserve more than this, Hermione," he said dully. "You deserve to be with a man can take care of you. Makes you happy. You shouldn't have saddled yourself with an old man like me."

"That's the exhaustion talking."

"No, it's not."

"You're being melodramatic," she told him, picking up his arm so it rested on her thigh as she started rubbing, working her way slowly from wrist to shoulder and down again. She focused on her task and ignored the bubble of fear in her stomach.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You can never just let yourself be happy."

He closed his eye again, his mouth set in a grim line. Hermione wouldn't call it pouting, but it was close. Leaning forward, she kissed him softly.

"You make me happy, Remus."

"I'm sorry you're stuck with me," he whispered.

"I'm glad you're stuck with me."

He fell asleep a few minutes later, the worry lines smoothing as his breaths evened. Hermione tightened the lid on the bottle and sat back on her heels, watching him. He was heartbreakingly beautiful in sleep.

"I'm going to fight for you, Remus," she promised.

An hour later, she was back in his bed, this time lying on her side, her chest pressed to his back, on hand slowly running through his hair as she drifted toward sleep.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I know."

He took her hand in both of his, squeezing lightly. "I'm going to marry you someday," he muttered, his voice nearly inaudible. Hermione's hands stilled for a second before she resumed her strokes.

"I look forward to it," she said.

**As always, a great big thank you to everyone who reads and comments on the story. NeonDomino, your comments as you got caught up made me laugh! I deliberately wait to read trilogies until all the books have been published because I hate waiting! **


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Eleven miles. My friend and I ran 11 miles yesterday and after getting through the first 5 just fine, talking about anything and everything (Bruce Willis' name came up; we've decided he's quite handsome and we love him), things got tougher. We were reduced to four-word comments and one-word replies for the rest of the run (Example: "Those mushrooms are weird." "Yeah.") and I thought about this story. I am happy it's making so many of you happy. Despite my uncomfortableness with over-the-top romantic gestures, I am a big marshmallow at heart.**

**Grovek26****: Yes, Sirius is the big brother your parents do NOT want you to emulate. I'm the second oldest of 6 and my older sister's antics made high school difficult. ("Your so-and-so's sister? You sit up front.")**

**j-jip: Great to hear from you! I admit it's odd writing Sirius as a big brother-type when he was Hermione's other love interest in my last story, but I think it's working. It helps that he's always a flirt. I think if I tried to write a Sirius-Hermione piece only, I'd feel like they were cheating on Remus!**

**Padfoot5Eva: I am totally reading The Trick of Time and ignoring laundry and other household chores because I can't stop! My husband does not understand. Thank you for the recommendation and lovely note.**

**Nella Hyuga: I know, right? He's a sweetie. **

**HeadyLupin: I'm not sure yet. Remus? Moony? Have you read any of the fanfic by Resa Aureus? I am obsessed with her writing. OBSESSED! I wish she was still writing.**

**Sampdoria, sierraemilie, StarGirlPotter, ****LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL****, levicari, Cat130, Leafey, CGinny, arabellagrace and everyone else who has left a comment: You are awesome! **

**On another note, I'm thinking of writing a one-shot to accompany "Get Busy Living." We know our favorite threesome was considering parenthood. Who wants to see it happen?**

**Just in case you forgot, I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. Nor do I have Bruce Willis' phone number. Now I'm sad.**

* * *

><p>Hermione yawned, made a note on her parchment, and studied George, who was sitting on a stool in front of Ron, listening as his brother gave a play-by-play account of the last Quidditch World Cup. His eyes were glassy.<p>

"How long has it been?" George asked morosely.

Hermione checked the clock. "Twenty minutes."

"I'm calling it; this batch is crap." Pushing back from the stool, he swept out of the room in frustration.

"But I hadn't got to the part about Wood's block on the third attempt," Ron told Hermione, looking rather dejected.

She smiled indulgently at him. Ron knew she and the twins were testing new products today and needed someone to serve as a lecturer. He didn't know more than that and, frankly, didn't care to. Instead, he told himself they all wanted to spend time with him and listen to his stories.

It was better for his ego.

Three vials. Fred, George and Hermione had teste three of the flavored Time Flies vials and none have made Ron's incessant storytelling, well, fly by. George did manage to listen longer than Fred and Hermione combined so they owed him lunch, but Hermione was beginning to get frustrated. She only had three left and if none of them worked, she had to start over.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"How do you know you're in love?"

She looked up in surprise. "Ronald Weasley, are you in love?"

He shrugged, but his cheeks were slightly red. Work frustrations aside, Hermione took the seat George abandoned to sit close to her friend. "Talk to me."

"I met her about a few months ago at that coffee chop Harry likes, the one where they don't make you feel like a prat for getting whipped cream?"

"That isn't coffee, its ice cream."

"And that's why we don't ask you to join us," he retorted. "Anyway, she works there and we got to talking and … I like her."

"You more than like her, Ron," Hermione grinned. "If you didn't, you wouldn't ask me about love."

He shifted a bit in his stool. "I don't know," he hedged. "I mean, she's great, but she's a Muggle, so …"

"What's wrong with that?"

"I knew you'd take that the wrong way," he said, comforted by her predictability. "There's nothing wrong with that, but I've never had to say 'Hey, I'm a wizard' to anyone before. I'm not you or Harry."

Hermione nodded slowly. That made sense. Ron was a pureblood; no one in his family has been with anyone less than a half-blood, not that status ever meant anything to him or his family. The Weasleys would welcome anyone Ron loved with open arms.

"Are you worried you tell her that you're a wizard and she'll think you're crazy?"

"That's part of it."

"What's the other part?"

"Let's say I tell her, OK, and she's fine with it and we continue to see each other and she meets the family and she meets you and Harry, and everything is going well, but then suddenly it isn't and we break up. What do I do? Do I trust her to keep this a secret or do I take away her memories of me?"

"That doesn't seem fair," Hermione said.

"Aughh!" Ron groaned, laying his head down on the table. "Why couldn't we just love each other? It would have made life so much easier!"

She leaned over to ruffle his hair. "Would it really?"

He snorted. "No. We'd have killed each other by now. Or, you know, Remus would have killed me, seeing that you belong to each other." He sighed again. "I never thought I'd be jealous of a werewolf, to just _know_ someone is right for you."

Hermione put her head down, resting next to Ron, smiling when he nudged closer. There were times she missed having Harry and Ron underfoot. The three of them were a team for so long, them against the world, that not being together all the time was more of an adjustment than she realized. Sure, she and Harry lived at the same house, but he was rarely there, either working or sneaking to Hogwarts to visit Ginny. She wondered what his father would say if he knew his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map were used for romantic escapades. Given the stories she's heard from Remus and Sirius, he'd be proud. She knew Sirius was. Remus abstained from giving an opinion.

"I'd like to meet her," she murmured.

"I can arrange that."

"Good," she replied, but didn't move. This was nice. She wanted to stay like this for a little bit.

"Oh no. Ron finally killed someone with his incessant chatter," Fred said from the doorway. "I told you this was going to happen, George."

"Poor Hermione; to fight so bravely in battle only to die listening to the going-ons of our little brother," George sighed.

"We're not dead," Hermione said, keeping her head down. "We're lamenting."

"Oh. OK." Fred grabbed a stool to join the pair, laying his head next to Hermione's. George watched for a moment, shouted at Verity to keep an eye on the store, and joined the trio, settling on Ron's other side.

"Do either of you have a crisis at the moment?" Hermione asked.

"I'm good," George said. "Fred?"

"Right as rain, brother mine."

"So why are you here?" Ron grumbled.

"Who didn't love a good pout every now and then?" Fred asked.

No one could argue with that logic, so their heads stayed down until Ron's growling stomach pronounced it time to go to lunch.

* * *

><p>Sirius loved home improvement projects. He loved home improvement stores. He loved the crazy inventions Muggles came up with to assist them in their projects. Sure, he could accomplish what he needed to do with magic, but why use a spell when you could have power tools? At least that's the argument he used every time he started a new project. Unfortunately, neither Remus nor Hermione agreed with him.<p>

"Do you really think you need a power saw?" Remus asked, flipping through the pile of catalogs Sirius had picked up that morning.

"Yes," he said.

"Why?"

"Hermione's room is a lot smaller than mine. If I'm going to be happy with my completely-amazing-and-unselfish-birthday-gift-of-which-you've-yet-to-thank-me, I need to make her room bigger."

Remus sighed. "I apologize for not thanking you sooner for your completely amazing and unselfish birthday gift for Hermione."

"And you."

"And me."

"You're welcome," he replied, circling another item in the catalog.

"Where will you store all of this?" Remus asked, flinching as he read some of the product descriptions. He didn't trust Sirius with sharp objects. He was lucky to get a fork at dinner.

"Basement."

"The basement is currently spoken for, Padfoot. I don't think a werewolf and power tools make a smart combination."

"Ordinarily, I would agree with you, but given that Moony no longer needs a cage now that he has Hermione, I think we can -"

"Wait; what?"

Sirius looked up. "Moony. Hermione. You."

"I'm aware of the key players, Sirius."

"Right," Sirius focused on the catalog again. What was a laser level? He wasn't sure, but it sounded cool, so he circled that, too. "Well, full moon, we were there, Moony was in his cage, Hermione was reading, I fell asleep -"

"You fell asleep?"

Damn. He hadn't planned on including that part in the story. "She wasn't reading the book I requested! I know you have a soft spot for Muggle children stories, but I do not and I got bored. Sue me."

Remus sighed. "Continue."

"When I fell asleep, she was in her chair, Moony was in his cage. When I woke up, you were out of the cage, sleeping with Hermione."

Remus shrugged. "She probably opened the cage when the sun came up."

Sirius shook his head. "I was awake seconds before the sun rose. I saw you shift from wolf to man."

Remus paled.

"She's fine, Moony! You saw her yesterday, and this morning. She's fine!"

He nodded, but he still looked scared and, frankly, Sirius didn't blame him. He had the same fear when he saw the wolf curled around the witch, but after he ranted and really thought about the situation, it made perfect sense. It was Moony who recognized Hermione and Moony who claimed her. Of course he was going to take every opportunity he could to be by his mate during the full moon.

"This is just so … it's weird," Remus said.

"Weird? You, the smartest kid in our class, the man who always has his nose in a book, just learned that your wolf self is capable of behaving somewhat human, without fear of death, and all you can say is 'weird?'"

Remus ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what to tell you, Padfoot. This is all new to me. I mean, five weeks ago, Hermione wasn't mine. I hadn't claimed her and probably would not have done so if she hadn't figured it out."

"Brilliant girl. Stupid man."

"Thank you," he replied sarcastically.

"Don't thank me, thank your lycanthropy," Sirius said. "We both know if it wasn't for Moony, you never would have made a move on Hermione."

"If it wasn't for Moony, I wouldn't feel the need to make a move on Hermione."

Sirius snorted. "Please. You'd love the witch even if she wasn't yours to claim. The two of you are perfect for each other in every way possible. It's just an added bonus that you are soul mates."

"Hermione said something similar."

"I told you; brilliant girl."

Remus stared at his friend thoughtfully. No one would ever consider Sirius Black an intellectual – and he'd happily hex anyone who did – but the man was a genius when it came to those he cared about. It was almost scary the way he was able to pick up on people's feelings before they realized it themselves. Scary and annoying. "Do you really think we would be together if we weren't meant to be?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Why even ask that? You were always meant to be."

* * *

><p>Hermione was giddy when she flooed home that evening. There is no other word for it. After two more failed tests – and even Ron was beginning to get bored with his stories – Fred drank the peppermint-flavored Times Flies and listened as his brother talked about his pseudo girlfriend for nearly two hours. At first, Hermione and George were convinced Fred was just gathering information to use against Ron when he finally got up the nerve to introduce Rebecca to his family, but when he shook his head suddenly and said "I'm sorry?" in the middle of Ron's description of her hair – "It's brown, but not brown. There are streaks of gold in it, and red, which is fitting considering I'm a Gryffindor, but she wouldn't know what that means, but I think it means something. Oh, and it has these, I don't know, waves and when the sun shines just right, you can imagine you are in a field and …" – they realized he had been in a time-speed daze the whole time.<p>

Hermione brewed a new batch for a second round of tests just to be sure. She and the twins were going to find an extremely dull movie to watch for the next round of testing. She tried not to take it personally when Fred suggested she ask Remus for a recommendation.

"Honey, I'm home!" she jokingly called out, throwing her satchel and cloak on one of the kitchen chairs. She saw the pile of home improvement magazines and catalogs on the other end of the table and shook her head. She hoped Remus was able to talk Sirius out of power tools that required electricity. He had yet to realize they wouldn't work in the wizard world, choosing instead to believe that she and Remus were big sticks in the mud who never wanted him to have fun.

"Dining room!" Remus called back.

That was different. They never used the dining room. It was the meeting room of Order Headquarters during the war, but ever since Voldemort's demise, the large space had stood empty aside from the extremely large table and chairs. Hermione slid open the pocket doors, surprised to see Harry, Remus and Sirius bent over what appeared to be a large parchment covered in scribbles.

"Do I want to know?" she asked.

Remus winked and shook his head. "Get out while you can."

"Hermione!" Sirius cried.

"Too late," Remus said.

Sirius beckoned her closer to the table. Upon closer inspection, she saw that they parchment wasn't the latest drawing by Bill and Fleur's daughter, but crudely-drawn sketches of Grimmauld Place.

"Remus and I were trying to figure out what to do with the extra space of what will be your floor -"

"Yeah, thanks for telling me you're moving," Harry interrupted.

"I'm moving up one flight of stairs, Harry."

"Whatever," he grinned, popping another piece of Remus' chocolate in his mouth.

"Sirius thought maybe you'd want your own library," Remus told her.

"We already have a library," Hermione said.

"Yeah, and you and Remus are the only ones who use it, so what if we made that part of your living quarters and turned the space downstairs into something fun?"

"Libraries are fun," Hermione and Remus said at the same time.

"See?" Sirius asked without looking up from the parchment. "Meant to be."

**Remus is beginning to think of his curse as less of a curse and more of a ... well, I don't know what he'd call it, but he's beginning to lose some of the anger towards it. We'll see how that affects the couple. **


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N – I will be at the doctor's office for most of Tuesday (nothing serious, just time-consuming) and I doubt they'll let me pound away on my laptop while I'm waiting, so I offer a short chapter to tide everyone over until I can write again. (Side note: I totally typed Sirius instead of serious.)**

**As always, I own nothing related to Harry Potter. I just like to play with some of the characters.**

* * *

><p>"Do I know of a boring movie?"<p>

Hermione nodded, trying not to laugh at the expression on Remus' face.

"Why would you ask me that?"

"Technically," she began, "I'm not the one asking, but playing owl for Fred."

Remus watched from the bathroom door as she brushed her teeth. He loved watching her get ready for bed. There was an intimacy in seeing someone wash their face and brush their teeth that went beyond sleeping together.

"And Fred needs a boring movie recommendation because …"

"Oh! I forgot to tell you!" she said, picking up a glass to rinse her mouth. "I think I've perfected Time Flies. We tested it today and the peppermint-flavored option could be the one. It worked for Fred, but we need to do another test with a bigger group."

"Hence a boring movie selected by Remus?"

She walked over and kissed him on the cheek. "You are adorable when you pout."

"I don't pout."

"Yes, you do," she replied in a sing-song voice on her way to his bed. "You, Remus Lupin, are an excellent pouter – and brooder – but you are so cute when you do it that I don't mind."

He watched as she plumped the pillows and picked up her book, seemingly unconcerned that in the past five minutes she called essentially called him both boring and a pouter. Walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he caught sight of his face in the mirror.

_Shit_.

Careful to smooth his expression before walking out of the bathroom, which was pointless because she was completely absorbed in her book, he took his place in the bed beside her, grabbing his own book from the nightstand.

This was nice, too. Certain people – Fred – might consider it boring, but he was sharing a bed with the woman he loved, both of them relaxing after a long day. Comforting was nice. Not boring.

"Ron has a secret girlfriend."

Conversation with one's significant other also was nice.

"Who told you this?" he asked, opening his book.

"Ron."

"How can she be a secret if he's the one telling you the secret?"

Hermione shook her head. He could be too literal at times. "She's a secret because not that many people know about her. It's probably because she's a Muggle and he's never dated outside the wizarding world."

Now he was intrigued. "How did Ron meet this woman?"

"Their eyes met across a cappuccino machine."

"I'm sorry?"

"Coffee shop."

"He goes for coffee in the Muggle world?"

"Apparently Muggles do not judge those for getting whipped cream in their coffee."

Remus shook his head. "That's not coffee. That's ice cream."

Hermione's face lit up and she leaned over to kiss Remus enthusiastically on the lips. "That is one of the reasons I love you," she exclaimed.

He wasn't quite sure what she meant by that, but he got a kiss out of the deal, so he'll take it.

"Anyway, so he's been sort of seeing Rebecca for a few months now and he's ready for some of us to meet her."

"Some of us?"

"Me. Harry. Ginny. You."

"Why me?"

"Because you're mine," she said in an offhand voice, her attention focused more on the book than the conversation. "I told him we'd be free for dinner this weekend, if that works for you?"

He nodded. "I have no plans beyond being with you."

She smiled. "Great; it will be a triple date!" She turned a page and let out a little laugh.

"Funny part?" he asked, his focus on his own book.

"No, not the book. I just realized our triple date will be my first date."

"Our first date?"

"Well, yes, and my first date ever. I have to tell you, when I daydreamed about my first date, I didn't think Harry and Ron would be part of it."

Remus set down his book. "Wait. You've never gone on a date before?"

She shook her head.

"What about Krum?"

She laughed. "That was a school dance! A date is when the guy shows up, brings you flowers and takes you somewhere. At least, that's what all the books and movies make it to be. Why? What was your first date?"

Mandy Crimmins, third year. They went to Hogsmeade together. He took her to The Three Broomsticks for lunch and held her hand as they walked around the village. He bought her a chocolate flower at Honeydukes and kissed her before they were back on school grounds. But he couldn't tell Hermione that.

"I'm sorry," he said, brushing a curl off her face. "I haven't taken you out on a date."

She rolled her eyes. "Remus, we're soul mates. People usually go on dates because they're searching for their soul mates. We don't have to do all that; fate decided our future."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't be somewhat traditional."

Grinning, she shook her head, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "You are so sweet. Add that to the list of adjectives that describe you."

* * *

><p>"You want to what?"<p>

Remus looked at Harry who was looking at him like he was crazy. Sirius was watching the entire scene with an amused look on his face.

"I want to take Hermione out on a date."

Harry was confused. He looked toward Sirius for help, but he just shrugged in response. "Um, Remus? You don't need to date Hermione. You love her. She loves you. You've shagged. You live together. She carries your mark on her neck. All of that supersedes dating."

"Harry, what did you and Ginny do when you first got together?"

"We fought Death Eaters."

"After that."

"I took her to dinner and we talked about fighting Death Eaters."

Remus sighed. It was amazing the boy had a girlfriend. "The key words are 'took her to dinner.' I haven't done that with Hermione."

"It's true," Sirius piped up. "She does all of our cooking. If I remember correctly, you got several meals in bed leading up to the shagging."

Harry covered his ears and closed his eyes. "La-la-la-la-la! I can't hear you!"

"Grow up, Harry!" Remus said with a frustrated growl. "It's Wednesday. We're going to dinner with Ron and Rebecca -"

"Who's Rebecca?" Sirius interrupted.

"Saturday night, which means I need to take Hermione on her first date Friday night."

"You mean your first date," Harry said.

"No, I mean her first date. She's never had one."

"She's never had a first date?" Harry asked. He closed his eyes to think. There was the dance with Krum, but that was a school event and didn't count. She snogged Ron a few times, but they never actually went anywhere. She did a few Girl Nights with Ginny and friends … "How could you have shagged her without taking her to dinner first?" he yelled.

"It's not like I planned it!" Remus yelled back. "I wanted to have a mature conversation about the whole werewolf mate thing and she – things got out of hand!"'

"Well, you are going to fix it, Remus! You are going to wine her and dine her and give her the best first date in the history of first dates."

"Which brings us back to the beginning of this conversation: I want to take Hermione on a date."

He nodded. "Right. OK. Well, let's go."

The two of them left the kitchen. Sirius remained in his chair. "I'm still waiting for someone to tell me who the bloody hell Rebecca is!" he yelled.

* * *

><p>"Hermione?"<p>

Hermione didn't look up from the cauldron, holding up a finger to stop whichever twin was at the door from talking. Counting under her breath, she finished adding gillyweed to the bubbling potion, taking a silver spoon to stir it, counter-clockwise, six times. Using her wand to lower the fire, she pushed back from the table, stretching her back.

"What's going –oh! Who got flowers?"

George handed her the bouquet of a dozen white moonflowers. "You."

Her face lit up and she automatically buried her face in the blossoms, breathing in their sweet scent. "You and Fred didn't have to get me flowers."

George smiled ruefully. "Well, now I feel like a prat. They aren't from us; they're from Remus."

"Did you have another fight?" Fred asked, peeking in the room.

Hermione laughed. "No, sorry. I wonder what got in to him."

Walking further into the room, a large bag dangling from his hands, Fred handed it over. "This might answer your question."

Hermione passed the flowers to George, who accepted with a shrug and decided to sniff them, too, while Hermione looked inside the bag. She pulled out an oversized silver box tied with a red ribbon. Placing the box on the table, away from the flame, she undid the ribbon and peeled back several pieces of tissue paper to reveal a maroon-colored knit wrap dress with three-quarter sleeves. A pair of knee-length brown boots was underneath another layer of tissue paper, along with a note.

_My dearest Hermione,_

_I would be honored if you would accompany me to dinner tonight. I understand that living together makes it difficult for me to pick you up, so I have reached out to Molly Weasley who is looking forward to seeing you at the Burrow after work._

_Please tell Fred and George they are not invited and to stop sneaking a peek in the box; there is no lingerie inside. _

_All my love,_

_Remus_

**I do love domineering werewolf Remus and tend to write him that way, but I also love sweetheart Remus who wants to love and be loved. Hermione is going to have an amazing first date. Hopefully it will come to me in a dream, unless any of you have first date suggestions. (My husband and I went out for Chinese, then got drunk at a fireworks display. Hey, it worked - we were engaged three months later - but it's not exactly romantic.)**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N – Have any of you read the BuzzFeed writer's summaries of watching the Harry Potter movies for the first time? He live tweets watching the movies (he's gotten through the first five), then posts it to BuzzFeed with screenshots. So freakin' funny! All I want in life is to watch movies with this guy. Search for the #finallywatchingHP hashtag on twitter. One of my younger sisters and I have made it our mission to say "I legit murdered a guy first year" as much as possible. It's probably not the best sentence to repeat in public.**

**I still own nothing related to Harry Potter. We all know if I did, Remus, Sirius and Fred ****_never_**** would have died.**

* * *

><p>Hermione left work early. She was told to go after Fred and George deduced she was worthless, her focus more on the evening ahead than the potion she was brewing. Dragging her up the stairs to their flat, Fred practically forced her to the fireplace, blinking in surprise when she thrust her flowers in his arms.<p>

"I don't know if they'll travel well," she called before disappearing in a burst of green light. Remus' flowers were the first time a man had given her any; she wasn't going to risk ruining them.

Stumbling gracelessly from the fireplace – and grateful Sirius wasn't around to make a joke – she looked around the Weasleys' living room, wondering how much Molly knew about that night. Judging by the big smile the woman had when she entered the room, Hermione guessed a lot.

"Hermione!" she cried, rushing over to hug her; box and all. "This is so exciting!"

"So you know what's happening?"

Blue eyes twinkled as she pulled away. "I do, but don't bother asking me. I was sworn to secrecy."

"An Unbreakable Vow?" Hermione joked as she followed Molly to the kitchen.

"I think the thought crossed that man's mind. He's the determined sort, isn't he?"

Nodding, Hermione took a seat at the table, smiling gratefully for the cup of tea Molly set in front of her. She loved working with Fred and George, but neither man ever learned to brew tea properly, preferring sugary-sweet drinks to keep them moving.

"How is it going with you two?" Molly asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Well, actually," Hermione said. "We haven't had too many snags. He gets a little edgy right before the full moon and somewhat depressed after, but it's nothing I can't handle."

Molly smiled, sipping her own tea. "I have no doubt."

"We did have one fight," Hermione confessed. "It was when Harry found out and Remus got … I don't think defensive is the right word. Territorial, I'd say. He pulled the 'I am the man' routine, you know?"

Molly sighed and nodded. "I hope you took care of it."

"I did," she sipped her tea to hide her smile. "I'll probably have to again, won't I?"

"I'd love to say no, or blame it on the lycanthropy, but men, as a species, are simple creatures. They tend to act first and think later, but I don't need to tell you that. You grew up helping Harry and Ron get out of _their_ scrapes. You'll find yourself having variations of the same conversation again and again, I'm afraid.

"But," she said, not wanting Hermione's evening to be marred by their conversation, "it's the sweet things they do, like everything Remus has set up for tonight, that make their mistakes tolerable."

"He is sweet," she agreed.

Molly smiled and took Hermione's hand. "Remus Lupin is one of the kindest people I know. I always knew that if he ever allowed himself to love someone, and to be loved in return, it would be amazing. I will continue to feel remorse for how I reacted when I found out about you, but I want you to know I am happy for both of you."

Hermione sniffed, the tears she'd been holding back since she read Remus' note finally spilling over. She missed her mother. She was so happy Remus realized she'd want her surrogate mother around as she got ready for her first date.

"I love you," she told Molly.

"I love you, my girl."

Hermione finished her tea and Molly pushed her upstairs to the room she had shared with Ginny, where there were two more packages on the bed, plus another dozen moonflowers and a note.

_To my Hermione,_

_Flowers can withstand floo travel._

_Love always,_

_Remus_

Opening the first box, Hermione found new bottles of her favorite bubble bath, shampoo and all other toiletry items she needed in preparation for her date. "He didn't miss a step," she murmured, already looking forward to owling Ginny with her story.

Then she opened the last box and blushed. Tucked inside the crepe paper was a matching silk maroon bra and knickers, complete with garters, stockings and one final note.

_My beloved Hermione,_

_For obvious reasons, I couldn't include this with the dress and the boots._

_Always,_

_Remus_

_P.S._

_I hope you're alone right now._

Giggling over the fact that a man as sexual as Remus could get ruffled so easily, Hermione carried her packages in the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"Come in!" Hermione called after hearing Moll knock on the door. It was five minutes to seven and she had just finished sliding on her boots. Hermione couldn't explain the butterflies in her stomach. This was Remus. <em>Remus. <em>

"You look beautiful," Molly said, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Hermione stood up. "I'm a fidgeting mess," she confessed.

"That's how first dates are supposed to feel," Molly said, walking over to brush a few curls off of Hermione's face. She had opted to wear her hair in a loose knot near the napes of her next, several curls already slipping out of the pins. Small gold hoops were the only jewelry she wore.

"So, now what?" Hermione said, twisting her hands. "Should we go downstairs?"

"No! We'll wait here until Remus arrives so you can make an entrance."

Hermione started laughing, the nerves finally getting to her. "Did you make Ginny do this, too?"

"Of course. It's a mother's right."

* * *

><p>Remus took a deep breath before knocking on the Weasleys' front door. He was dressed in charcoal gray trousers, a dark blue button-down shirt and a black pea coat. Sirius had catcalled when he walked down the stairs, which was the reaction he needed because shouting at his best friend to grow up helped relieve his nerves.<p>

Why was he jumpy? This was Hermione. _Hermione._

"Remus!" Arthur opened the door with a large smile. "It's great to see you again! Come in!"

Smiling at the man who, in the span of two weeks, went from friend to the man he needed to impress to keep his lover happy, Remus shook his head at the absurdity of it all. Perhaps the pageantry of this was too much – but then he saw Hermione walk down the stairs and, for a second, he couldn't breathe.

She was worth it. She was worth everything.

"You look amazing," he told her, his eyes darkening as he drank in the vision that was her.

She gave him a nervous smile. "So do you."

Arthur hugged Hermione goodbye and told Remus to behave himself while Molly rushed for the camera for one quick picture that turned into 10.

"Molly, dearest, they need to get going," Arthur told her, gently taking the camera out of his wife's hands.

Mouthing 'Thank you,' Remus kissed Molly goodbye and shook Arthur's hand, standing back as Hermione hugged them both. After helping her into her coat, he took her hand and they left, both letting out a huge sigh of relief after the front door closed.

"Can I kiss you now?" Remus asked, taking Hermione's face in his hands.

"Yes, please."

The second his lips touched hers, their nerves disappeared. Everything was right again.

* * *

><p>"Are you hungry?" Remus asked as they walked through London's Central neighborhood, her hand in his.<p>

"A bit," she said, wondering why streets she'd walked a thousand times before looked different tonight. Then she glanced at the man on her left.

That's why.

They arrived at the famed Gordon's Wine Bar, Remus letting go of Hermione's hand only so he could rest his on the small of her back as they walked down the creaking stairs to the semi-lit room below. Following the waiter who smiled at the couple – he'd been the business long enough to recognize a first date when he saw one – he showed them to their table, which was set slightly apart from other couples enjoying a nice dinner out. Candles in wine bottles on the tables were the only lighting, making shadows dance on the aged wood walls.

Hermione pretended to study the menu, but she was really studying Remus. He had shaved, losing the slight scruff that usually covered his face this late in the day, and she was pretty sure he got a haircut, too. The scars on his face looked were less noticeable in the dark lighting, but they never bothered her. All of Remus' scars were a reminder of his strength, of his innate goodness. He was a man who would rather take pain upon himself than hurt anyone.

He looked up, his brown eyes questioning. "What?"

"You are beautiful," she answered.

He blushed slightly, leaning over to take on of her hands in his. "You're taking all of my lines."

"Find new ones," she challenged.

Saying nothing as the sommelier came back with their wine, he waited until the man left before he lifted his glass to hers in a toast. "'I'll love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.'"

"You stole that one from Elizabeth Barrett Browning," she teased.

"The night is young," he promised.

They ordered tapas and a cheese board, Hermione leaning over often to feed Remus a bite. She did it because she loved feeling his lips on her fingers. He loved the view he had every time she shifted closer to him.

"When did you realize you were a wizard?" Hermione whispered, twirling the stem of her wine glass slowly.

"There was always a knowing, but I think that's easy to say because my father was one," he said. "My first bit of magic, though … that had to be when I refused to take a bath after playing in the rain and the mud. Somehow I made the bathwater disappear."

Hermione laughed. "How old were you?"

"Five, maybe? My mom, I remember she looked so frustrated, but then she took my hand and we went back outside to wash in the rain. 'Water is water,' she said."

Hermione smiled. "She sounds like she was a wonderful person."

"She was," he replied, his eyes distant for a moment. "What about you?"

"When I got my letter from Hogwarts, of course."

"No, I mean the first time you realized you weren't like the other kids."

Hermione sighed. "I was always different from the other kids. The girls at my primary school wanted to play dolls and house, and I wanted to read. I wasn't interested in tea parties or playground games. I'd read about a playground game before I'd play it."

Remus smiled, picturing a young Hermione lugging around books bigger than her.

"But my first piece of magic, not that I knew it was magic at the time, had to be when my parents wanted me to get the in car for a visit to my great-aunt's house. She was not a kind person and visiting her was torture. I refused, running up to my room, and when I slammed the door, I must have magically locked it because they couldn't get in and I couldn't get out."

"Weren't you scared?"

She shook her head and chuckled. "I was relieved! I could hear them pounding and they knew I tried to open the door, so while they waited for the locksmith to arrive, I had the afternoon to read without interruption. It was wonderful."

"How old were you?"

"Mmm … 8, I think."

The restaurant was nearly empty by the time they stood to go. Hermione expected them to return home, but instead Remus helped her into her coat, tucked her into his side and they walked along the South Bank, the lights of The London Eye acting as their guide as they walked along the Thames, following the sound of a lonely saxophone in Thames Park.

"May I have this dance?" Remus asked, sweeping his arm to gesture to the empty pathway.

Stepping into his arms, she linked hers around his neck as his hands settled on her waist. Their bodies brushed against each other as they swayed slowly in the dark night, the lights of London cutting through the tress the only reminder that they were not alone in this perfect moment.

"Thank you for the best first date of my entire life," Hermione whispered, her breath warm in his ear.

"Thank you for being my last first date," he replied, bending down to kiss her lightly, deepening it only when she moaned, tightening her arms around his neck.

* * *

><p><strong>Ev'rdeen: Your reviews crack me up! You are totally not a creeper and I think you are hilarious! We will share mutual, platonic non-creepy love and admiration for each other because I adored your one-shot "Tease." Mmm. Charlie.<strong>

**Guest reviewer Elizabeth: You are so much more romantic than I am! Can I have that date with Remus, please? (I may steal parts of it for later in the story.)**

**Padfoot5Eva: It went well; thank you! **

**HeadyLupin: I am very much looking forward to writing the Rebecca meets everyone dinner scene. I believe Sirius will stay at home. It's probably for the best.**

**Grovek26: Completely daft, you say? Mischief managed! Ha! :)**

**NeonDomino: If you find one, will you share? Please? I seriously considered The London Eye, but I'm sticking to the whole 'Hermione doesn't like heights' idea that seems to be common in the fanfic world. Sirius would make her do it. Remus would not.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N – I have good news and bad news, folks. The good news is a dear friend of mine is swinging by for an unexpected visit tomorrow. Yay! The bad news is I will be drinking wine with her instead of writing the scene when Rebecca meets everyone. Boo. (I'd like to say I'd write it tonight, and I might, but I don't want to make an empty promise. Better to be surprised than disappointed, right?)**

**Padfoot5Eva really wants Sirius to be part of the everyone meeting Rebecca gathering. I will leave this up to you, my friends. Does he tag along or will he stay home? (I attempted my first poll with this question, but I'm asking here, too, in case I did it wrong.)**

**Warning: Some smut ahead. Please don't read if you are underage.**

**As always, everything related to Harry Potter does not belong to me. I am making no money from this; just having fun.**

She expected them to go home when he took out his wand after their dance. She was wrong.

Hermione opened her eyes to a stonewashed cream cottage with maroon shutters and a thatched roof. A single light was glowing in one of the upstairs window. Smiling at her look of confusion, Remus took her hand.

"I debated about taking you back to the Weasleys' tonight," he said in a low voice as they strolled up the stone walkway to the front door.

"Why?"

He smiled. "I thought it would go with the first date experience; taking you somewhere that wasn't our home and leaving you with nothing more than a kiss good night, but when I realized that plan meant spending the night without you, I scrapped it for Plan B."

Taking a small brass key out of his pocket, he opened the front door and waited for her to walk inside. The entryway to the bed-and-breakfast tucked away in London's south end was small but welcoming, with flowers on the side table next to a small sign bidding guests a good evening. With his hand at the small of her back, Remus guided Hermione up the stairs, to the second bedroom on the left.

"Are you going to kiss me good night here and go to a different room?" Hermione asked in a teasing voice.

He leaned his forehead against hers. His eyes were dark. Hungry. "Never."

Instead, he swept her into his arms, and opened the door, barely giving her a chance to look around the room before he was kissing her, his strides purposeful as he carried her to the king-sized canopy bed. Laying her down, he went back to the door to lock it, returning to stand by the bed and look at her, his gaze both carnal and soft.

"Remus?"

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, bending to run one hand along her leg, gently tugging to remove her left boot. He repeated his actions with the right boot, setting both beside him before pulling her to a sitting position and removing her dress. Threading his fingers through her hair, he kissed her again, this time joining her on the bed, their bodies sliding until they were settled in the middle, she on her back and he on his side. Propping himself up on one hand, he slowly trailed his knuckles along her thigh. Hermione swallowed nervously, the warmth that started in her stomach every time Remus kissed her sliding down to her center as she kept her gaze steady on his.

"I've been rough with you," he said quietly, never stopping his slow exploration of her body.

"No, you haven't."

"I have," he persisted, leaning down to softly kiss her shoulder. "Our first time … I wanted you and I took you. I should have been slower, softer. I should have taken the time to worship you the way you deserve. Every time after that … I should have been more."

"I have loved every moment with you," she whispered.

He smiled a little at that, his calloused fingers playing the clasp on her garters. "I'm glad, sweetheart, but that doesn't mean I won't make it up you." Shifting so his body was over her, one thigh in-between her legs, he propped himself up on his forearms. "I need to make it up to you."

He dropped his mouth to lick along hers before he kissed her, going deep but staying light, careful to keep his weight off of her. She reached out to run her arms along the hard ridges of his arms. Moving back, he slid down her body, his lips exploring the curves of her hips, the flatness of her stomach, as his fingers unhooked the garters. Slowly, with a small hum of appreciation, he rolled the stockings down her legs, kissing along her calves, knees. Hermione shifted in frustration, reaching out to help him remove his shirt.

"Remus …"

He didn't respond, instead licking his way up her thighs, pausing at the juncture of her thighs. Using his teeth, he removed the small scrap of silk, repeating the devastatingly slow process of sliding it down her legs. She dug her fingers into his shoulders in frustration. He responded by nipping the inside of her thighs, lightly, but enough to make her jump.

"We have all night," he told her, the statement somehow both a promise and a threat as he leaned forward to slowly lick her slit.

Hermione arched her spine, moaning as she felt him explore her folds. He knew, he always knew, exactly how to touch her. He knew what would drive her crazy, what would make her melt. She looked down her body as he lifted his head. She expected a wicked smile, the look he gives her when he knows he has her exactly where he wants her and there's nothing she can do, but instead his expression was tender. Without saying anything, he dropped back down, his shoulders settling in, spreading her thighs wider. Growling softly, his tongue lashed her clit, as he slid one finger inside, twisting. She hissed, feeling the shock from his touch from her head to the tips of her toes. He licked her again and slipped a second finger inside, playing, seeking, twisting in a rhythm that had her longing, aching, begging.

"Yes," she murmured, trying to hold her hips still without success.

She's so tight, so tense, the fingers she laced through his hair pushed, then pulled. She wanted him closer, she wanted him away. It was too much and not enough at the same time. He loved her like this, his Hermione on the edge of insanity. He knew she wanted to let go, to scream her release, there was that part of her, that stubborn part that wanted to hold on, to keep going. He knew it would take just one more touch, one more swipe of his tongue and she'd tumble, but he wasn't ready; not yet. He wanted to push her higher; he needed to push her higher. She was everything to him. He needed her to know that.

"Remus … please."

Her voice trembled. She was shaking, her whole body a mass of nerves. Sliding one hand under her bum, he pulled her closer to him and feasted. She arched into his mouth, screaming his name, her entire body trembling as she detonated into a million pieces.

"Gorgeous," he whispered, slowly moving up her body, smiling at the sight of her – flushed face, wild curls, eyes dark and mouth slightly open, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. Taking advantage of the moment, he unclasped her bra and tossed it across the room, but she grabbed his head before he could take her breasts into his mouth.

"Please," she whispered, trying to pull him up to her, unable to find the words to tell him how much she needed him. "Just please."

He slid off the bed and undressed quickly, settling over her after just seconds. He rubbed her cheekbones with his thumbs. "I wanted tonight to be about you," he told her.

"It is," she whispered, her hands grasping his shoulders as she shifted her legs to wrap them around his waist. "I need you. I need you so much."

He pressed his forehead against hers and slowly penetrated her, neither one breaking eye contact as inch by swollen inch, he slid into _his_ Hermione, _his_ woman, _his _mate. The breath she didn't realize she was holding was let out on a sigh as he started moving, his thrusts shallow, slow.

"Faster," she begged.

He complied, his movements getting harder as she slide her hands down his back, cupping his backside. Her nails bite into his flesh as she tilts her hips up, meeting his thrust for thrust. He can't hold on. He wants to, so much, but she drives him crazy. She knows his body as well as he knows hers. He can't get enough of her; he'll never get enough of her. He shifted slightly, changing his angle to hit the spot he knows she wants him to find. Seconds later, she's crying out and he follows, her name a constant chant on his lips as he buries his face in her neck.

* * *

><p>Hermione cuddled closer to Remus, her head on his chest, one arm wrapped around his waist and one leg thrown over both of his. She knew he was awake, but neither spoke. They didn't want to break the spell of the moment. She smiled as he picked up her hand, gently kissing each finger.<p>

"No rings?" he asked in a husky voice.

She shook her head. She rarely wore jewelry, the gold hoops she wore the only earrings she took from home when she left. Harry had toyed with the idea of enchanting a couple of medallions for the three of them to wear during the war as a way to keep tabs on each other, but all hell broke out before they could get to it. He mentioned it a few times since then, the three of them missing the closeness they once had. Maybe she'd take care of it as a Christmas present.

Pushing herself up slightly, she ran her hands down Remus' chest, smiling at the way he sucked in his breath every time she touched him, almost like he couldn't believe she was his to touch and he was hers. He watched as she traces her scars, like she does almost every night, her gaze focused as she runs her fingers over the ridges, her touch cool on his warm skin.

"Are you looking for something?" he asked.

"I keep expecting to find a tattoo" she confessed.

"I think I'm decorated enough," he said wryly.

"You're telling me Sirius never tried to talk you into it; never tried to get matching tattoos with the marauders?"

Remus grinned, remembering a Saturday afternoon near Carnaby the spring of their sixth year. Sirius had managed to talk all of them – James, Peter and Remus – into sneaking away from Hogwarts to spend the day among the Muggles. They had forbidden James from uttering Lily's name and spent the day together, the marauders. They flirted with pretty girls and got wasted in a pub, Sirius wanting to commemorate the adventure permanently. They had followed him to the tattoo parlor, convinced it was just another one of his crazy schemes, and then watched as his first tattoo was scribed on his back. Peter had fainted; there was no way he'd ever handle a tattoo and Remus was not going to show his scars to the man in the chair. Only James had consented, getting Lily's name inscribed on his left shoulder.

Sirius was torn between pride that one of his best friends would do it and pity that James was so wrapped up in a woman.

"That smile says a lot, Remus. Where is it?"

He laughed as she bent forward, her face against his skin as she searched for something that wasn't there. "I don't have one!"

She ignored him, trying to flip him over to check his backside. When he wouldn't budge, she moved her hands to his feet and ran her fingers lightly down the soles of his feet, laughing as he sat up quickly to tackle her, his own fingers turning her to nothing more than a hysterical woman as he tickled her ribs.

"Stop! I'm sorry; stop!"

"I warned you not to think about it," he growled.

"I forgot!" she gasped, her facing turning red.

"Somehow," he whispered, his face close to hers, "I don't believe you."

He loosened his grip, knowing she'd wiggle out of his grasp as soon as he did and he wasn't disappointed. She stood on the side of the bed, chest heaving as she caught her breath, eyes narrowed as she studied the innocent look on his face. She grabbed one of the feather pillows.

"You do know this means war?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I've fought in a war."

"As have I. Two, actually."

She burst out laughing, lowering the pillow and her defensive stance. "How did we go from the most romantic night of my life to threatening each other with pillows?"

Grabbing her arm and tugging until she was flushed against him again, he kissed her on the lips. "That, my love, is the beauty that is us."

"I love us, Remus," she told him, her face serious.

"I love us, too."

"Promise me we'll always be us."

He sat up, framing her face in his hands, the expression on his face somber. "I've waited 35 years for you, Hermione Granger. You were mine and I was yours before you even existed. I promise nothing will ever keep us apart."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N – This is a short chapter (well, shorter than what I usually write) to set up the kind of, sort of date with Ron's Rebecca. Will Sirius get to go?**

**I made the mistake of watching part of Criminal Minds tonight. I'll be running inside tomorrow. Sigh.**

**FYI: I own no part of Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>"Sirius!"<p>

Hermione walked through the front door, having apparated a block away from Grimmauld Place just moments before. Heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs was the response to her greeting, Sirius jumping over the last three to swoop down the hall and kiss Hermione's cheek.

"Welcome home! Did you have fun? Did you buy me anything? Did you have your way with Remus and, if so, will you give me details because he's no fun?"

"Padfoot," Remus growled, but Hermione only laughed.

"Yes. Yes. Yes and no!"

Rolling his eyes, Sirius followed the couple to the kitchen, Hermione balancing a couple of bags in her arms. Recognizing the names of several London book stores, he was suddenly less excited about his present and focused instead on Hermione's left hand, shrugging when he caught Remus glaring at him.

"Here," she said, passing over two paperbacks. He looked at the covers and laughed – books two and three of the werewolf romance series he couldn't stop reading.

"Is there something you want to tell me, Padfoot?" Remus asked. Sirius gave him the finger in response.

"Don't listen to him," Hermione said, packing everything up again. "Reading is reading, no matter what."

With that, she kissed Remus on the cheek and left the kitchen. Both men watched her walk away.

"Would you please stop looking at Hermione's finger?" Remus hissed.

"Can't help it," Sirius replied. "You spend two days planning this amazing date, getting her friends involved and buying new clothes so you can sneak her away … It sounds like proposal-planning to me."

"I told you," Remus sighed. "It's -"

"Illegal," they both said at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah, so I've heard," Sirius replied sarcastically. "That doesn't mean you can't ask her. So you'll be one of those long engagement couples until the politicians catch up with everyone else."

"I don't want to get her hopes up."

"I don't know, Moony. If James and Lily taught us anything, it's that life is short and you have to grab your happiness while you can."

"I'm working on it," Remus said, rummaging through his own bag of books, smiling at the small sack Hermione must have hidden inside. Peeking, he saw a bag full of chocolate bars, automatically handing one over to Sirius, hoping the gesture would dissuade him from seeking out the others.

It hasn't yet, but he was optimistic.

"How, exactly, are you working on it?" Sirius asked around a mouthful of chocolate.

"I'm going to take Kingsley's offer."

Sirius started choking on the chocolate. "Moony! That's fantastic! Will Hermione be working with you, too?"

"I don't know. I need to talk to her about it. She likes working for Fred and George."

"With," Sirius corrected, an automatic response after enduring her glare when he made the same mistake once last week. All right, more than once. The first time was an accident, the second, third and fourth times … he couldn't help it. She was fun to tease. "She works with them and it's just a part-time gig until something she really wants comes along. She really wants this, Moony; for you and for her."

Remus nodded. He made his decision around 4 a.m. He had gotten up to get a drink of water and when he walked back to the bed, he saw Hermione lying there, a patch of moonlight illuminating her face. It was the first time in a long time seeing the moon didn't fill him with a sense of forbidding. Instead, he felt acceptance. It was hard to put into words. It was almost as if in that second, everything he had fought against for so long wasn't important. All that mattered was her and she loved him. That was enough. Or it would be once he got the anti-werewolf legislation changed and could legally marry Hermione.

"This is great," Sirius said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk on his face. "Harry loves his job. You're growing up. Hermione got lucky. I am proud of all my friends today."

"Please stop talking about my girl's sex life," Remus begged.

"I will if you start talking."

"No."

"Fine. I'll just have to keep imagining things."

Remus shook his head. Why he ever thought an almost 40-year-old Sirius Black would be more mature than a 17-year-old Sirius Black, he'll never know.

"Hey, Harry and Hermione are going out tonight. Feel like going to the pub for a drink?"

Remus didn't look up from the book he was flipping through. "Can't; I'm going, too."

"Going where?"

"Out with Hermione, Harry and Ron."

"What!?" Sirius leaned forward, his chair crashing to the floor. "Why?"

"Because I'm Hermione's," Remus replied. "It's supposed to be a triple date or something."

"Not anymore," Harry said, walking in with a disgruntled look on his face. Pulling out a chair, he flopped down with a sigh, snagging the rest of Sirius' chocolate bar. "Ginny just owled. McGonagall won't let her come home."

"You had her ask McGonagall?" Sirius asked. Who was this boy? Had he not learned anything from him?

"Hey, she got permission to come home last weekend for Hermione's birthday," Harry answered defensively.

"Hmm … date with boyfriend vs. family get-together with the Order," Sirius murmured, two hands held out as if weighing the options. "Wow. I did not see her no coming."

"Shut it, Sirius."

Winking at his godson, Sirius turned to his best friend. "So does this mean the night is off? Remus – you, me, firewhiskey – yeah?"

Remus shrugged, still not completely focused on the conversation.

"He can't," Harry said. "Ron wants us to meet Rebecca, so we're going. I'll just be a fifth wheel."

"Wait – Rebecca? The Rebecca?" Sirius asked, immediately forgetting all previous thoughts about an evening at the pub. "The girl I still know nothing about, but apparently is a big deal? I'm in."

"I don't know," Harry hedged. "Ron might not like it."

"Bollocks to Ron; I'm loads of fun!"

"Sirius," Harry hesitated. "Rebecca is a Muggle."

"So?"

"And you're not," Harry replied.

"Neither are you. Or Remus. Or Hermione. Or Ron! Really, Harry, I'm disappointed. Your arguments need more work." Pushing back from the table, Sirius grabbed his books. "What time are we leaving?"

"Six," Harry sighed.

"See you then."

Remus looked up. "Wait; Sirius is coming, too?"

Harry just shook his head.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N – I'm waiting for my friend to show up. Her flight was delayed, so I have some time to kill. You know what that means? Writing time! Here's hoping you like this chapter!**

**As always, Harry Potter does NOT belong to me. Neither does Remus.**

* * *

><p>"No," Ron said. "No. No. No. No."<p>

Hermione and Harry looked at him with what they hoped were innocent expressions.

"No, what?" Harry asked.

"Don't try it, Harry; you know exactly what I'm saying no to," he replied, glaring at his best friend. Or former best friend, the traitor.

"Come on, Ron," Hermione pleaded. "He never goes anywhere. The fact that he even wants to leave the house is huge!"

"He wants to make my life hell," Ron retorted.

Hermione struggled to think of a response. She knew Sirius liked Ron, but he also liked to cause trouble, and a setting in which Ron introduces his girlfriend, his Muggle girlfriend, to his close friends was too great to ignore.

"If he's coming, I might as well ask Fred and George, too," Ron continued.

"He will not be like Fred and George," Hermione swore. "I promise."

Ron looked dubious, but he nodded reluctantly. Leaning over to give him a hug, she ran out of Harry's room to the study where Remus and Sirius were waiting; Remus pacing the floor, Sirius sitting on the couch, his legs propped up on the coffee table, an amused expression on his face as he watched Remus.

"Well?" Sirius asked, one eyebrow cocked.

She nodded, but before he could say anything, she held up a finger to cut him off. "There are some rules, Sirius."

"Really?" he asked. "I'm not a child."

Remus snorted.

"Just one," Hermione said in what she hoped was a stern tone. "Please be good. Ron really likes this girl. He's nervous enough dating a Muggle."

Sirius held up his hand. "I solemnly swear I will not deliberately embarrass Ron Weasley."

"Oh God," Hermione groaned.

"Of course," he continued, his glance sliding over to Remus, "I could be persuaded to be on my best behavior if a certain werewolf was willing to share some details of his love life with me."

"Sirius!" Remus and Hermione yelled.

"What?! I know that you blabbed to Ginny, Hermione, just like I know she told you about Harry!"

"What about me?" Harry asked, walking in the room, a pale Ron following.

"Nothing," Hermione replied through gritted teeth.

"Are we ready to go?" Remus asked, desperate to change the subject.

Sirius stood up. "I am," he announced.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered.

* * *

><p>They used a public floo to get to Central London, Sirius smiling appreciatively at the girls they passed on the crowded streets on their way to the Trocadero, a popular entertainment center with games, shopping, and movies.<p>

"Rebecca picked it," Ron explained when they got to their destination. "She thought all of us sitting around a restaurant could be uncomfortable."

Any other night and Hermione would agree, but she knew that Ron's experience with Muggle entertainment was sketchy at best. Harry was a little better, having spent most of his life with non-wizards, though his childhood didn't leave much time for play. She was pretty sure Remus had very little experience playing any games and Sirius … She was already regretting her decision not to confiscate his wand.

"Nervous?" Remus murmured.

"Terrified," she whispered. "This needs to go well. Ron deserves it."

He squeezed her hand in support. "I'll do what I can," he promised.

The group walked inside, the sounds and lights immediately making Remus jump. He didn't like crowds or a lot of noise. His senses were hyper-alert without the extra stimuli. Catching Sirius' eye, he nodded slightly to let him know he was all right, forcing himself to take a few steadying breaths while Ron looked anxiously for Rebecca.

"Ron!" a voice cried, everyone turning to see a tall girl wearing jeans, a plain pink T-shirt and a black and white shirt, unbuttoned, and black ballet flats rush over. Hermione smiled when she saw her hair – long, brown and wavy with red and gold highlights, just like Ron described in vivid detail.

Rebecca through her arms around Ron, kissing him squarely on the lips before she noticed the people standing behind him. Giggling a little, she backed up and gave them a friendly smile.

"Hi! I'm Rebecca," she said.

Ron put an arm around the girl's waist, the tense look on his face giving way to a besotted grin. "Rebecca, this is Harry."

Harry stepped forward and shook Rebecca's hand, but it was too loud to catch what he said to her.

"And this is Hermione."

Hermione reached to shake her hand, too, but was caught in a quick hug instead.

"I've heard so much about you," Rebecca gushed.

"Likewise," Hermione smiled.

"This," Ron said, somewhat darkly as he gestured to Sirius, "is Harry's godfather, Sirius."

Rebecca looked a little confused, like she couldn't understand why Harry would bring his godfather on a triple date, but she covered it well, waving to Sirius. "Sirius, huh? That's not a name you hear every day."

He smiled. "Family name," he said easily.

"I would imagine," she replied.

"And this is Remus. He's …" Ron looked at Remus and at Hermione, a slightly panicked look on his face. They hadn't discussed what to call Remus. Boyfriend seemed too juvenile and mate; well that was a word that appeared on Ron's "Things we won't talk about" list he made each of them repeat before leaving Grimmauld Place.

It was a fairly long list.

Remus smiled, stepping forward to shake Rebecca's hand. "I'm Hermione's," he said smoothly, his confidence in his introduction leaving no room for question. Hermione smiled at his choice of words. Hers. Every time he said it, her heart did a little dance. She hoped it never stopped.

"It's nice to meet you." Looking around, Rebecca turned to Ron with a questioning look. "Where's your sister?"

"Ginny couldn't make it," Harry replied.

"Yeah, Professor McGonagall doesn't let students leave Hog –"

Hermione started coughing loudly. Remus patted her on the back.

" – school on the weekends that often," Ron finished.

"Wow," Rebecca said. "It sounds like a strict boarding school."

Harry nodded.

"Ron told me he met Harry and Hermione at school, but did you go there, too?" she asked Remus and Sirius.

"We did," Sirius replied, choosing not to mention that Remus was once Hermione's professor. "Before their time, of course. Harry's dad was our best mate."

"That's sweet," Rebecca said, giving the older men a friendly smile. "So you must have watched Harry grow up."

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Sirius looked guilty. Harry looked sad. Ron looked panicked.

"Um, we were there when he was born, but there were some years in-between when it wasn't possible," Remus finally said.

Rebecca nodded sagely. "It's hard when friends grow apart, isn't it? But hey, you're here now!"

Taking Ron's hand, she started leading the group away from Trocadero's main entrance. "I took the liberty of making us a reservation for dinner, but we have a couple of hours to kill. Who's up for laser tag?"

"What's laser tag?" Remus whispered, his grip on Hermione's hand tightening as they weaved their way through crowds of people out for a fun time.

Hermione laughed, at a loss for how to describe the game. "You'll love it," she promised.

Surprisingly, he did. They booked a group slot, so it was only the six of them in the arena at one time: Harry, Ron, and Rebecca against Hermione, Remus, and Sirius. Harry was still trying to figure out how his team lost.

"Forty-five minutes ago, neither of them had even heard of laser tag," he fumed, gesturing to Remus and Sirius who were studying their scores on the electronic board, gleeful smiles on their faces. "And I know you hadn't had much experience, either."

"Hey," Hermione laughed, hitting his arm. "I happen to be an excellent dueler. Some skills transfer to other things."

Harry rolled his eyes. He was training to be an auror. Ron was training to be an auror. Rebecca was a Muggle. He really though they had the game in the bag. "The fact that two of your teammates have animal-like reflexes didn't hurt either, right?"

"You chose the teams," she reminded him.

The group tried bowling next. Hermione had dragged Harry and Ron to a bowling alley years before, so while they certainly weren't good, they were able to fake it pretty well. Luckily, Rebecca wasn't that good either, screaming in excitement when she managed to knock down one pin. Remus got the hang of it after Hermione showed him the proper way to hold the ball, though Sirius complained he was playing dumb so she'd have to wrap her arms around him.

"Is that true, Professor Lupin?" Hermione whispered in his ear after he managed to bowl a spare.

"Miss Granger," he replied. "I'm shocked you would have such thoughts."

She smirked and lightly nipped his ear.

"My turn," Sirius yelled, jumping up from his plastic seat, missing the automatic flinch his friends made as he walked to the lane.

"He's very enthusiastic, isn't he?" Rebecca asked.

"You have no idea," Ron muttered.

He rolled the ball, his eyes narrowed as he watched it roll down the lane. "Goal!" he yelled.

"What?" Rebecca asked.

"I mean strike!"

"How did he …" Harry looked at the others for answers, but no one had them. By the end of the game, Sirius was the only one in triple digits.

"We should have a bowling alley at our house," he told Remus as they sat down to dinner.

"We can't have a bowling alley," Hermione and Remus replied at the same time.

"Do you all live together?' Rebecca asked, an intrigued look on her face.

Sirius nodded. "Well, the four of us," he said, pointing at Harry to include him, too. "Ron's always welcome, though."

"Thanks, mate," he replied, though everyone knows his gratitude was more for Sirius' behavior, not the invitation to live at Grimmauld Place.

"Is it weird, living with three guys?" Rebecca asked Hermione, her eyes curious.

"Not really," Hermione replied. "I mean, Harry, Ron and I were in the same hou – I mean, dorm – at school, so I'm used to being around them."

"And your parents are OK with it? I mean, with Remus being your boyfriend and everything."

Hermione looked down at her menu, blinking back the lump in her throat that always formed when someone mentioned her parents. She felt Remus' hand on her knee and Harry gently nudging her shoulder. "Um, I lost my parents two years ago," she said.

Rebecca blanched. "Oh God. I am _so_ sorry. I had no idea."

"No, it's fine -"

"It's my fault," Ron interrupted, mentally kicking himself for putting Rebecca in an uncomfortable situation and hurting Hermione. "I didn't tell her."

"No, no. Its fine," Hermione repeated, giving the couple a shaky smile. Everyone was quiet for a few minutes, the mood shifting from relaxed to uncomfortable.

"So … Rebecca," Sirius said. "Do you like magic?"

* * *

><p>"How did Ron ever learn to make a rose appear like that?" Rebecca asked, eyes wide as she waited for Hermione to finish washing her hands.<p>

Hermione kept her head down so Rebecca couldn't see her smile. She knew Ron wanted to kill Sirius when he brought up magic, but then he turned the conversation to magic tricks and ended with Ron pulling a perfect red rose from behind Rebecca's ear. Judging by the kiss she gave him, Ron was glad Sirius tagged along.

"He's a pretty amazing guy," Hermione agreed.

"You don't have to sell me on him," Rebecca gushed. "I noticed him the first time he and Harry came to the coffee shop. He has this way of looking at everything, like it's so new and shiny, that it makes you see everything in a different way. Does that make sense?"

Hermione nodded.

Rebecca leaned closer, the two of them the only ones in the restaurant bathroom. "Can I tell you something?" Not waiting for Hermione's assent, she pressed forward. "I was pretty nervous about meeting you. I mean, from what Ron told me, you two used to be a bit more than friends."

"Not really," Hermione hedged.

"Oh, I'm not asking for details. Please, no!" she laughed. "I just think it's great that even though it didn't work out, you two are still friends. I mean, who does that in real life?"

"That's true," Hermione said, holding open the bathroom door and gesturing for Rebecca to go through first. "Look, one thing you need to know about Ron is he is the most loyal person you will ever meet. We did not like each other when we first met, but then there was this tr – bully. This bully and he wanted to hurt me, but Ron and Harry came to my rescue, even though they could have gotten in big trouble, and we've been tight ever since. He isn't perfect and I'm sure he's told you I'd say that, so I'm not going to lie, but he is as loyal as they come."

Rebecca smiled softly. "I really like him," she said. "I think I could … do you want to hear this?"

Hermione smiled and gestured for Rebecca to continue.

"I think I could love him. Does that sound weird? Is it too soon?"

Hermione looked across the restaurant; her eyes catching Remus'. He smiled slowly as he looked at her making her feel warm all over. "When it comes to love, there's no such thing as too soon," she replied.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N – It's Oktoberfest time here, so the husband and I will be lifting a glass to our German roots this evening. Well, probably more than one as the celebration takes place outside and it's only 42 degrees.**

**Hermione's conversation about the leaves comes courtesy of a newspaper column I read years ago that essentially ruined fall for me. There's a reason I'm not a science person. I apologize now if I ruined fall for you.**

**I'm not quite sure what my point was with this chapter. I wanted to get the last scene written; the rest is kind of babbling. I think we're getting close to the end of this story. What do you think?**

**As always, I do not own Harry Potter. **

* * *

><p>"That went well," Hermione said as Remus helped her take off her coat, laying it over a chair in the kitchen.<p>

"Did you have your doubts?" Sirius asked, digging through the pantry, looking for the cookies he knows Hermione bought earlier that week because he put them on the list.

Harry snorted and took a seat, suddenly exhausted. It wasn't easy trying to pretend to be something you weren't. There were several times he or Ron or Hermione would begin to tell a story, only to realize they couldn't tell it like it happened because of whom it involved or where it took place. Magic was their world.

"Would you ever date a Muggle?" Harry asked the room at large.

"If I felt a connection, sure," Hermione said, squeezing Remus' hand when he gave her a look. "Hypothetical, of course," she told him, kissing him lightly on the lips.

Sirius rolled his eyes as he sat down, ripping over the package of cookies and offering it to Harry before taking one. "I don't know. I did a few times in my younger days, but it was more to annoy the family, not because I had actual feelings for the girl."

"Do you think Ron can handle this?" Harry wondered, voicing the question all of them were thinking. Rebecca was a great girl; friendly, enthusiastic and she seemed to truly care about Ron, but whether or not she'd be willing to accept his world …

Sirius shrugged. "The boy has handled a lot of things over the years. He had to overcome your reputation and Hermione's brains, not to mention all the brothers that came before him. Who knows? Maybe meeting Rebecca and falling for her … this is his reward. She has no ties to his life up until now and can be 100 percent his."

"He deserves to be happy," Harry said, reaching for another cookie, looking over at Hermione and Remus who were sitting at the other end of the table, Hermione leaning against Remus' shoulder with her eyes closed. "We all do."

* * *

><p>"Thank you for my bear," Hermione said, setting the stuffed animal on her dresser. The group had tried their hand at a few carnival games after dinner, Remus racking up enough points to win Hermione a prize. It was a rather juvenile moment, he knew that, and yet there was pride in watching her walk around for the rest of the night with the brown bear tucked under her arm.<p>

"Are you going to name it?" he asked from his seat on her bed.

"Of course," she replied, ducking into the bathroom. "I'm just waiting for the right inspiration."

Stifling a yawn, Remus checked the time and winced; 2 a.m. No wonder he was exhausted. Kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his sweater, he leaned against Hermione's headboard, crossing his feet. He had hoped to talk to Hermione about Kingsley's offer that night. Now that he knew that was what he wanted to do, he was desperate to know her thoughts. He closed his eyes, telling himself he was only going to rest for a second. Hermione found him like that minutes later, having slouched further into the bed, sound asleep. Smiling, she walked over to curl up next to him, forgoing the covers, his body heat giving her all the warmth she needed.

* * *

><p>"Do you want to go for a walk?"<p>

Hermione looked up from her book. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. Everyone in Grimmauld Place had slept in, meeting in the kitchen for a late breakfast, then dispersing to different part of the house. Hermione made a few trips with her things to Remus' room, then got distracted sorting through her books, spreading out on his floor to read.

Stretching, her back a little sore from lying on the wood floor, she nodded. "Let me grab my shoes and a jacket."

Minutes later, the couple left the house, Hermione's arm tucked through Remus' as they made their way to the park a few blocks away. The leaves were starting to turn colors and fall, their footsteps making crunching sounds as they walked over the small piles on the sidewalk. "I love autumn, but it's so hard to enjoy the leaves when I know the reason they're turning colors is because they're losing oxygen," Hermione murmured.

"My romantic girl," Remus teased.

"It's not my fault," she cried. "I love the different colors, but once you know why it happens, it makes it difficult to enjoy the changing colors. I look at the leaves and I think I hear them gasping for air."

Remus tried not to laugh, he really did, but her voice was so forlorn, the expression on her face so sad, that he couldn't help it. At first, it was just a snort, but once he started, he couldn't stop; not until Hermione let go of his arm to grab a handful of leaves, throwing them at his face.

"You have three seconds to run," he told her in a low voice.

She took off, her laughter making it difficult to get far before he caught her from behind, swinging her around in circles until she was breathless and both of them were dizzy. Hugging her tightly, he carried her to a bench and sat, keeping her on his lap, his face buried in his neck.

"Remind me to have you on my team when we have our traditional Christmas Eve snowball fight," Hermione murmured.

"We have a traditional Christmas Eve snowball fight?"

"I'm going to start one," she said decisively. They were a couple. Couples had traditions. "You're on my team."

"Done."

Sliding off his lap, Hermione shifted until she was sitting on the bench, facing him. "What do you want to tell me?"

He was surprised. "How do you know I want to tell you something?"

She laughed. "Oh, I don't know … some magical cosmic connection I share with you makes it easy to read you. It's the strangest thing."

He leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose. "Sirius' sarcasm is rubbing off on you."

"He'd tell me to tell you thank you."

He shook his head, knowing she was right. There were times he wondered if he and Hermione should look into a place of their own. Sirius did better when he had people around him – he knew that and didn't want to leave his friend alone – but shouldn't he and Hermione have their own space?

He'd worried about it for a few weeks, but then he'd come across his best friend and his love laughing over something in the kitchen, arguing over a game of Wizard's Chess or Hermione reading a book while Sirius napped with his feet in her lap, and realized the way they lived, no matter how untraditional, worked for them. The three of them had abandonment issues. They needed each other to feel complete. Remus had worried that would change after he claimed Hermione, that suddenly he'd be jealous of the closeness his best friend and his mate shared, but Sirius' support over the years, his dedication to keeping Hermione safe when Remus couldn't, cemented their own bond. If anything ever happened to him, Sirius would take care of Hermione and she'd watch over him.

"Remus?" Hermione studied him, a quizzical look on her face.

He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "I've been thinking about Kingsley's offer, working with the Ministry to eradicate the anti-werewolf legislation, and … I want to take it."

Her face lit up. "Really?"

"Yes and, if you're interested, I'd love for you to join me. But if you are happy with what you're doing, I don't want you to leave it. I don't ever want you to feel that you have to set aside your happiness for me and or that I'm telling you what to do -"

She leaned over to kiss him. "Sometimes, Remus, you talk too much."

"That's the first time anyone has ever said that to me."

* * *

><p>"So, when does the new venture start?" Sirius asked.<p>

Remus looked across the table at his friend, acknowledging his proud smile with a nod of his head. It was dinner time and, taking advantage of the fact that everyone was home for once, Hermione had prepared a feast, the four of them dining on roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans – she insisted everyone have at least one serving – and cornbread stuffing.

"I'll owl Kingsley in the morning," Remus said.

"And I'll give the twins a heads up when I go to the shop," Hermione added.

Harry was thrilled with the latest development. Delores Umbridge was a horrible woman who helped make Remus' life miserable after he graduated from Hogwarts. Knowing Remus and Hermione would be the ones to change everything she'd done … it was even better than the night she was carried off by the centaurs. He opened his mouth to say so, but was cut off by the green light in the fireplace, Ron walking through a second later.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said in lieu of a proper greeting. "Harry, Hermione; I need to talk to you."

He walked out of the kitchen, not stopping to grab a bite to eat. That in itself was unusual. Harry was out of his chair seconds later, following Ron down the hall. Hermione mouthed "Sorry" to Remus and followed.

"Do you ever look at them and see us and James?" Sirius asked Remus.

"All the time."

"Fate is a funny thing," Sirius said, putting his serving of green beans back in the bowl. Hermione would never know.

* * *

><p>"I love her," Ron moaned, throwing himself on Harry's bed. Exchanging looks, Hermione and Harry joined him, each of them taking the spots they had claimed as theirs over the years. Hermione liked to lie on her back, her legs propped up against the wall, head near the foot of the bed, while Harry sat on the opposite side, his back against the headboard, his legs stretched out. Ron always sprawled on the foot of the bed, his head near Hermione's, whether he was the one in crisis or not.<p>

"After you guys left, we went back to her place -"

"No details!" Hermione and Harry yelled.

"– and we talked! Perverts. We spent all night talking, OK and snogging a little, and it was amazing. We … we connected," he sighed despondently. "She's the one. I love her."

"Usually when someone is in love, Ron, it's a happy occasion," Hermione told her friend.

"I'm going to play devil's advocate and disagree," Harry jumped in. "Remember what I was like when I realized my feelings for Ginny? Or how I reacted when I learned about you and Remus?"

"You're a mess when it comes to love, Harry," Hermione replied, patting him on the arm. "That doesn't mean Ron has to follow in your footsteps."

"What do I do?" Ron cried. "She loved you guys!"

"Um, is that bad?" Harry asked.

"No! That's great! I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't, but now she wants me to meet her friends, and then she wants to meet my family and have me meets hers. I can't take her to the Burrow! She'll take one look and run screaming the other way!"

"What if you and your parents met for lunch in London?" Hermione suggested, knowing that would be even worse. Judging by the sour look Ron shot her, he agreed.

"You're going to have to tell her, Ron," Harry said. "You can't keep something like this from her."

"What if she doesn't believe me?"

"Then she's not the right person for you," Hermione replied.

"What if she can't handle it?"

"Then she's not the right person for you," Harry repeated.

"What if she wants proof?"

"You're a wizard, Ron," Hermione laughed. "You give her proof."

The three of them were quiet, comfortable in the fact that they were together. Hermione reached one hand above her head to ruffle Ron's hair.

"You know," Harry said. "Maybe you want to talk to your parents first. They probably know someone who has fallen in love with a Muggle. Their advice might be better than ours."

"That's true," Hermione said. "I mean, Harry's dating your sister. He didn't have to struggle much to make that happen."

"You're one to talk, Ms. Fate-Decided-For-Me," Harry replied, nudging Hermione's leg with his shoulder.

Ron groaned. "Why do I always have to be the one to do things the hard way?"


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N – It's a wee bit chilly in my house this morning as the furnace has decided not to work, so I am dressed in layers as I type this. **

**Comments on the last chapter were great - thank you for your support! It was suggested that perhaps I should have my stories have more angst, which I do not disagree with. Things have been too easy for Hermione and Remus (and the two of them plus Sirius in my previous fanfic attempt); it might be time to switch things up a bit. Thank you for not being afraid to give the constructive criticism Padfoot5Eva!**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Four months later<em>**

Remus walked into Kingsley Shacklebolt's office with the beginning of a headache behind his eyes. This was the first time Kingsley asked only to see him, not him and Hermione. He didn't have anything new to report, so that could only mean one thing.

Bad news.

The look on the minster's face when he gestured for Remus to sit down confirmed it.

"Remus," the wizard sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

"No one said fixing decades of corruption was going to be easy," Remus replied, feeling better when Kingsley gave a small half smile, the gesture making his dark eyes brighten a little.

"There are times I wish I could bottle Hermione's passion and let it loose on everyone in this building who still subscribes to the pureblood way of thinking."

Remus smiled. As someone often on the listening end of Hermione's tirades, he had to agree that they were entertaining. Of course, when her piles or research and well-thought and executed speeches did little to dissuade those in power … He could see her frustration, feel it. Neither one of them expected that when they accepted their positions within the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures that decades of prejudice would be erased within weeks, but several months in and all they have to show for their work is a lot of meetings and several scathing opinions in _The Daily Prophet_; particularly when the nature of Remus Lupin's relationship with Hermione Granger was made public.

_"Ignore it," Hermione had said. "They don't understand."_

_"I did this to you. You don't deserve to be labeled a -"_

_"Don't repeat it," she had interrupted. "Don't give the words power." _

That was two months ago. There were still people that gave the couple looks, muttered comments he overheard, but Arthur Weasley was right when he said the people who know and care about the couple would be accepting.

"Remus?"

"Sorry," he replied, forcing himself to stay focused on the present. "I completely understand everything is moving slower than either of us likes. I assume you have an idea, one that Hermione won't like, which is why you scheduled this meeting when you know she's at Hogwarts."

Kingsley smiled wryly. "You know me well, Remus."

Remus sighed. "I'm afraid I do."

* * *

><p>She was at her desk when he returned to their shared office, a pile of books on the corner, her head down as she scribbled notes. She had exhausted the research materials at the Ministry, even visiting those in Bulgaria and Germany to see if they had information related to werewolves that the British Ministry did not. Her recent trip to Hogwarts was more getaway than research-driven; she needed to see Ginny and have a few hours to laugh with her friends. Sometimes it was easy for Remus to forget she was still only 19; she'd done so much, experienced so much, already.<p>

"You're back," he said, walking over to drop a kiss on the top of her head.

She nodded, but didn't reply, quill flying as she finished a thought. Once she did, she stood up and wrapped her arms around Remus, breathing in the scent of him after several hours apart. "How was your meeting with Kingsley?"

"How did you know?"

She simply smiled. The bond between the two of them was stronger – and getting stronger every day. They couldn't read each other's thoughts, something both of them were grateful for, but they had instincts about the other that were eerily accurate.

Using his wand to close and lock their office door, Remus sat at his own desk, pulling Hermione into his lap and wrapping his arms around her.

"We're not going to have another round of the professor and the student, are we?" she asked sadly, laying her head against his chest, smiling when she heard him chuckle. That little game on top of his desk one late night took care of one of the fantasies she had about him when she was younger, although the real version was a lot wilder than what her 14-year-old self had imagined.

Running a hand up and down her back, Remus focused on her – her scent, the way she felt in his arms – and reminded himself that she was the reason he was doing this. He had listened to Kingsley, argued with him, debated, and then reluctantly agreed there was no other way.

"Kingsley wants me to go on a reconnaissance mission," Remus said, flinching slightly when he felt Hermione stiffen. "I'm only one person; I can't speak for all werewolves. He feels if we had more packs on our side, pledging allegiance to the Ministry, it will help convince others that dropping the current laws won't result in packs overthrowing the current leadership."

Hermione didn't raise her head. She could feel tears forming in her eyes and she didn't want him to see them. "The last time you traveled with different packs, you were almost killed," she said quietly.

"That was different," he replied. "I was recruiting for war. This is … it's more of a peace offering."

"You're seen as a traitor among some werewolves, Remus."

"And a friend among others."

She leaned back slightly so she could look him in the eye. "You've already had this conversation with Kingsley, haven't you? Anything I say you've already said and you are using his words as your response."

He nodded, making her sigh.

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know. It's winter; that makes it harder to track packs."

"So wait until spring."

"Hermione, no one will change their mind between now and spring," Remus said, tightening his grip when she tried to move from his lap. Taking her chin oin his hand, he made her look at him. "Delaying this means delaying everything else. If we don't start making progress soon, the public will get tired of the conversations and move on to something else. We can't lose the support we've gained."

"I can't go with you, can I?"

He shook his head. "It's too dangerous – too dangerous for a non-werewolf," he added quickly.

"But -"

"No 'buts.' You are a witch, Hermione, not a werewolf and you're my mate. If we came across a pack that wasn't receptive to what we're trying to do, the fact that you're mine could put you in danger," he leaned his forehead against hers, willing her to understand. "I can't focus on what I have to do if I'm worried about you. It will leave both of us vulnerable."

Hermione wrapped her arms around him, trying to get closer. "I hate this."

"I hate it, too."

* * *

><p>Bill Weasley sat at the table, tapping his fingers in a steady rhythm he wasn't aware of as he waited for Remus to come downstairs. He had kissed his own wife and daughter good bye an hour ago and was eager to get moving so he'd be that much closer to returning home. He had reached out to Remus when his parents mentioned his mission, offering his services; a move that led to plenty of arguments at the Burrow and his own home, but he was resolute in his decision. Remus had helped him over the years and Hermione … she was practically his sister. If he could do something for the couple, he would.<p>

"I appreciate this, Bill," Sirius told him, his gaze steady as he focused on the red-haired wizard. "Hermione … she still hates this, but she's taking it a little better knowing you'll be with him."

Bill shrugged. "Life has been pretty quiet, you know? It was time to shake things up a bit."

Sirius laughed, but it was hollow. He'd been struggling to remain upbeat ever since Remus announced his plans. The past two weeks weren't as bad as his time in Azkaban, but they were close.

He heard footsteps on the stairs. Harry was already at the Ministry, organizing the aurors that would serve as a convoy to the travelers – from a distance, of course. Getting to his feet, he plastered a jubilant look on his face, clasping Remus on the back when he entered the kitchen. "Good man!" he cried, grabbing his friend in a fierce hug. "Always knew you'd be the one to fight for the greater good."

Remus tried to think of a witty retort, but he couldn't. He'd spent the past few hours wrapped up in Hermione, the two of them pretending everything was fine, would be fine, and that he'd be back in a few weeks, two months tops. Neither one had spent more than a day away from each other since he claimed her more nearly six months ago. They didn't know what the separation would feel like. If the anxiety he felt after a few hours apart was any indication, it was going to be hell.

"Take care of her," he whispered fiercely in Sirius' ear.

"Promise," he replied.

Hermione hugged Bill, whispering something Remus couldn't catch, but assumed it was along the same lines as what he told Sirius. Then she turned to him, chin lifted proudly despite the unshed tears in her eyes. "You better come back safely, Remus Lupin," she threatened. "I mean it."

Pulling her into his arms, he buried his face in her curls. "I already promised, remember? We're us. We'll always be us."

She nodded, the lump in her throat making it impossible to reply. Pulling back, he framed her face with his hands and looked into her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you."

He kissed her softly on the lips. "I'm going to ask you a question when I get home."

She smiled. "I know."

One more kiss and then he walked to the fireplace, turning to look at Hermione and Sirius before stepping inside. "The Ministry of Magic," he said in a strong voice.

Then he was gone.

They stood there, the mate and the animagus, neither one wanting to say the first word. Hermione took a deep breath and turned to leave, stopping only when Sirius' hand grabbed her arm. Letting the façade drop, she let herself be folded into his arms as she cried.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N – We are an angsty group of readers, aren't we? As sierraemilie predicted, be prepared to feel all the feelings.**

**While I'm normally a happy-go-lucky person, I have to say I'm happy with the direction of the story. There will still be some humor – we need to laugh sometimes, right? – but I was getting bored of the "I love you" moments. I know I said the story was going to wrap up soon, but I think I might drag it out a little longer …**

**For those of you just joining us, I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. **

* * *

><p>Hermione studied the potion, her very first batch of Wolfsbane, created entirely by her. She held her breath at Professor Slughorn studied it, letting out a satisfied sigh when the portly man stood up and gave her a smile<p>

"Well done, Miss Granger."

It was March 5. Remus had left four weeks ago. At first, Hermione tried to maintain her usual routine, but she couldn't work on her office without Remus. Storming into Kingsley's office, she told him there was no more research she could do, no more questions she could answer about the behavior of werewolves until her werewolf came home. When he agreed with her, she took advantage of the guilt he had for sending Remus away and requested support for a new project – the mass market of the Wolfsbane portion.

Werewolves, like animagi, are required to register with the Ministry. Hermione proposed that when the werewolves register, they receive a lifetime supply of Wolfsbane, which would alleviate fears of attacks during the full moon. The proposal was met with support from the Wizengamot and the werewolves who have registered. Now Hermione was focused on having enough of the potion, but she wasn't going to stop there.

"Tell me again what you want to do," Slughorn said, sitting at his desk with a cup of tea and a biscuit.

"I want to strengthen the potion so that a person only needs to take it once to be protected for a full year," Hermione replied, taking out the parchment that outlined her plan, handing a copy to her former potions professor. she said nothing as he skimmed the proposal, his eyebrows going up several times. She didn't have much affection for Slughorn. The man cared too much about reputations, collecting students with potential only to better himself, but she would admit he knew his potions. Having him on her side would only strengthen her case.

"I'm sure you know, Miss Granger, that this potion is foul. To increase its strength to make what you're suggesting possible … I don't think there's a man or woman strong enough to drink it."

"But what if we inject it?"

She got the idea from Ron's Rebecca. She may work at a coffee shop, but it's a job to help pay the bills as she attends college with the hope of eventually becoming a doctor. Hermione loved talking to her about her studies and thought perhaps it was time the wizard world and the Muggle world came together for the greater good.

Slughorn nodded thoughtfully. "That could work," he said. "Of course, you'd need several people willing to test it before you could consider offering it on a grander scale."

"Unfortunately, professor, I have nothing but time," Hermione said.

He nodded sadly. "Do you hear from him often?"

She shook her head. Secrecy was key for this mission – to protect Remus and Bill, and the werewolves who did not want to be discovered – so regular communication wasn't an option. A few of the werewolves who have traveled to the Ministry to register in support of the proposed laws had messages from Remus to Hermione; her sole link to her mate.

"He would be proud of what you're doing, Miss Granger." Slughorn said, sounding so much like Dumbledore that Hermione expected to see the beloved wizard smiling at her over his half-moon glasses.

She hoped he was right.

* * *

><p>"Hermione, love, you need to stop sleeping in here."<p>

She looked over from her makeshift bed on the couch in the nearly-empty study. True to his word, Sirius had transformed his third floor bedroom into a separate living area for Hermione and Remus, moving the library up there because they were the only ones to use it. He couldn't figure out what to do with the study, though, letting it become sort of a catchall for unneeded furniture while he waited for inspiration.

That's what he told Hermione and Harry, anyway. She knew the truth was that he lost enthusiasm for the project.

"I can't sleep in my room, Sirius."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't smell like him anymore. His scent is gone. It's like he was never there and I can't …" She sucked in her breath. She was _not _going to lose it. She couldn't. She needed to stay strong, keep moving. He would be home soon. He had to be. He promised. "I just can't."

Sirius nodded and moved into the room, lifting Hermione's feet so he could join her on the couch. "OK," he said soothingly, patting her feet. "Sleep here. I'll stay here until you do."

She snuggled deeper in the couch. "I know you wait in the kitchen every night until I fall asleep."

"You know about that?"

She nodded.

"You should have said something sooner. I'm an old man, love. The couch is kinder to my back."

She snorted. She was quiet for so long, he figured she was asleep, but then she spoke. "It's Remus' birthday on Tuesday."

Sirius nodded. He would turn 40. When Sirius celebrated his birthday a few months ago, he insisted on a blowout, dragging everyone to London for pizza and bowling, but he knew his friend would mark the occasion on a smaller scale. "If he was here, what do you think he would want to do?"

Hermione thought carefully. "He'd keep it low-key. Maybe a nice dinner out, but he'd probably prefer close friends and dinner at home."

"And chocolate cake."

She smiled. "Of course chocolate cake."

"We're going to bake one for him, right?"

"I already bought what we need."

Sirius nodded, his hands petting Hermione's feet absently, his thoughts on Remus. Forty. His best friend was going to be 40. _He_ was 40. He didn't feel 40 – most days. Granted, the past few weeks have been tough, but he was sure he could still handle whatever life threw at him. He knew Remus could. He was counting on it. "What would you get him for a present?"

"Is that your not-so-subtle-way of asking about our sex life?"

He laughed. "Always."

She sat up, no longer sleepy; not that she was surprised. She hadn't had a full night's sleep in weeks and refused to take a potion. She needed to stay sharp. "I had an idea, but I need your help with it."

"Go on."

"Remus said the four of you -"

"Three of us," Sirius interrupted coldly.

"Three of you," Hermione amended. "He said the three of you left once Hogwarts to spend a day in London, drinking, flirting …"

"We did that more than once, actually."

"Well, he only told me about the one time."

"Go on."

"It must have been the first time you ditched school because Remus you and James got tattoos to commemorate the event."

Sirius grinned, his face looking less strained. "That we did."

"I think … I think I want to get a tattoo. For Remus."

Sirius' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really?"

She nodded.

"OK. When will we go?"

"Tuesday. On his birthday."

* * *

><p>Hermione leaned forward in the chair, her hands folded in front of her, the back of her shirt lifted so her left shoulder was on display. She looked perfectly calm; that is unless you looked closely at her knuckles which were white from tension.<p>

"I can't believe you're doing this," Harry told her.

"You're next."

He nodded, still flipping through the book of images to figure out what he wanted. The outing was originally going to be just Hermione and Sirius, but once Harry and Ron heard about it, they asked to come along. Sirius said only if they promised to get tattoos, too.

"Ready?" the man asked.

Hermione nodded, jumping slightly when the needle first touched her skin.

"Does it hurt?" Ron asked, his eyes wide as he watched the needle.

"It's not the most pleasant thing in the world," Sirius replied for her, laying his hand on top of Hermione's in show of support. "Believe me, the three of you have been through worse."

Hermione focused on Sirius, her eyes drawn to the bandage on his collarbone, where he'd gotten a tattoo of the moon. She was getting a moonflower on her left shoulder blade. Ron chose a Jack Russell terrier; his Patronus.

"Remus taught Harry the Patronus Charm and Harry taught me," Ron explained. "It seems fitting."

"It's a good choice," Sirius agreed.

Harry closed the book. "If you don't mind, Sirius, I want to get the moon, too – but on my shoulder. It's for Remus, but it matches yours and, I don't know, it makes me think of my dad, too. that's where is had his tattoo, right?"

Sirius nodded. "He'd like that. They both would."

"I wonder what Remus will get when he gets back," Ron mused.

Hermione could have kissed her friend at that very moment. Instead, she just closed her eyes and wished with all her might that somewhere, Remus knew his friends were thinking of him on his birthday.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N – It's 38 degrees here. I'm off to run 12 miles. I seriously doubt I'll be coherent after that, so enjoy the next chapter and have a lovely Sunday!**

**Remember, I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. **

* * *

><p>"It's time."<p>

Hermione looked up from her bowl of oatmeal. She wasn't eating it. She stopped eating after three bites. Instead, she was pushing the cooked oats around the bowl with her spoon, remembering how Remus would never eat oatmeal unless she added chocolate chips.

They haven't had chocolate chips in the house since Remus left three months ago.

"Time for what?" Harry asked, tearing his gaze from Hermione to study their best friend who had just walked into the kitchen.

Ron ran a hand down Hermione's hair before taking the seat next to hers, reaching over to snag her orange juice. The casualness of his gesture relaxed her more than the constant hovering of Harry and Sirius. She took another bite of her breakfast, taking her orange juice back from Ron to finish the glass.

"I'm telling Rebecca," Ron said. "I'm telling her I'm a wizard."

He waited for his friends to react. They didn't.

"Hello? Did you not hear me? I'm telling Rebecca I'm a wizard!"

"No offense, Ron, but you've been saying that for months," Harry said.

Ron shrugged. What Harry said was true. He had said he was going to tell her, but then something would come up and he'd lose his nerve. She knew he was keeping something from her and that fact that she didn't push him was simply another reason why he loved her, but he couldn't hide who he was forever. He didn't want to risk not telling her. Watching Hermione wither the longer Remus was away … fear wasn't worth that. She took a chance for the person she loved. He was going to do the same.

Plus, he told himself, the event would keep Hermione busy for a day. She'd either celebrate with him or comfort him after.

He really hoped they'd be celebrating.

"We're meeting her at Hyde Park in an hour," Ron said.

"We?" Hermione asked, tuning into the conversation for the first time.

"Do you honestly think I'm doing this alone?" Ron looked at Hermione like she was crazy. "Go! Go shower, get dressed, do whatever you need to do and be back here in 45 minutes."

She looked at Harry who shrugged. It's not like they had any other plans.

"Go!" Ron yelled.

Pushing herself out of her chair, she walked to her makeshift bedroom in the study, grabbed some clothes and went to Harry's bathroom on the second floor to do everything Ron had told her to do.

"Are you going out?" Sirius called out.

Pushing his bedroom door open, she peeked inside to see him sitting up in bed, the newspaper on his lap. "Ron swears today is the day he's telling Rebecca," she replied.

Sirius nodded. "Who picked this month?"

"George."

"Damn him."

Maybe it wasn't supportive to have a wager on when their friend was going to admit his secret to his girlfriend of nearly a year, but it was a long winter and the twins setting up the betting pool helped everyone keep their minds off more serious matters – for a little bit, at least.

"Do you want to come?" Hermione asked even though she knew the answer. Sirius had refused to leave the house since Remus left, convinced that if a person was not available at all times, they would miss communication from him. When someone else would offer to stay, he'd tell them they wouldn't know what to do if Remus contacted them. Sighing when he shook his head, she promised to bring back dinner and continued down the hallway to the stairs, telling herself that today she would think about Ron.

* * *

><p>Hermione and Harry sat on a park bench several feet from Ron, who was sitting on a bench of his own, hunched over, arms on his knees, head in his hands.<p>

"He looks sick," Harry commented.

"He's nervous," Hermione chided.

"No, he looks like he did fifth year when we told him he couldn't quit Quidditch."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I really hope we don't have to mend a broken heart today," Harry continued.

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"How's your heart?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione gave him a shaky smile. It had been almost three weeks since a werewolf had arrived at the Ministry to register who had some information from Remus. It was good information. According to the woman, Vanessa, Remus and Bill were well and healthy. Hermione could only hope that the lack of communication since then meant that the pair was nearing the end of their mission, a prospect she timidly shared with Harry.

"The number of werewolves coming to the Ministry has fallen significantly," she told him. "That has to mean something, right?"

Harry nodded, reaching over to take Hermione's hand and squeezing it in comfort. They sat there, huddled together in the cool April air, watching as Rebecca approached Ron, an expectant smile on her face.

"Here we go," Harry said.

* * *

><p>"Ron!" she cried, jogging the last few feet to reach the tall red-haired man that much sooner. Throwing herself at him, she pressed her lips against his, smiling when she felt his arms wrap tightly around her. She loved when he did that, when he'd hold on to her as if he was afraid to let go. It made her feel adored, precious.<p>

"I love you,"" he said, pulling back to stare at her intently. "You know that, right?"

She grinned. "Of course I do, silly. I love you, too!"

He nodded and took her hand, leading her to the bench. Sitting so they were turned slightly toward each other, knees touching, he tightened his grip on her hands momentarily, his face serious. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but then he spoke.

"You know me, Rebecca. You know I grew up the youngest boy in a family of overachievers. You know I'm friends with Harry who has this amazing reputation that's hard to overcome. And Hermione … no one matches her intelligence. I love my family and my friends, but sometimes I feel like I've spent most of my life looking for something that's just mine and when I met you, I found it. You didn't know me as another Weasley or Harry Potter's best friend; you only knew me as Ron and, strangely enough, fell in love with me anyway," he said wryly. "I want you to meet my family. I want to show you off to everyone I know. I want the whole world to say our names together – Rebecca and Ron, Ron and Rebecca."

She squeezed his hands. She loved this man. "I want that, too."

Taking a deep breath, he decided to just blurt it out. "I'm a wizard."

She didn't react, so he said it again.

"I'm a wizard, Rebecca."

"No …" she said in a comforting voice. "You're a Weasley."

"No, I'm a wizard! I have magical powers! I grew up in a wizarding family, which is why I've been scared to introduce you to everyone. They can't act like muggles; you'd know in five seconds something was off!"

"Muggles?"

"Non-magic folks, like you."

Rebecca stared at her boyfriend, at her love, and burst out laughing. "Ronald Weasley, you are hilarious! Is this a joke? Who's in on it? Harry? Sirius? Where are they?" She looked around the park, waiting for someone to jump out and laugh with her.

"Rebecca, this isn't a joke," Ron continued, his voice almost pleading. "I am a wizard. I attended Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm an auror in the Department of Ministries, where I work to track down dark wizards. My dad and one of my brothers work in the Ministry, too. My oldest brother is a curse breaker, the second-oldest works with dragons. Fred and George own a joke shop in Diagon Alley, Ginny will graduate from Hogwarts next month," Ron spoke quickly, unable to stop as Rebecca just stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. "Harry! Harry is an auror, too, and Hermione works in the Ministry, helping eradicate anti-werewolf legislation. Sirius is a wizard. Remus is, too – and a werewolf, but that will take longer to explain. He won't hurt you, though, so don't act different when you see him next. My mum, she doesn't work outside the home, hard to even think about it with seven kids, but she …"

Rebecca listened to the words that poured from Ron's lips. She could tell he believed everything he was saying.

Oh God. She fell in love with a nutter.

"Stop it!" she yelled, jumping up from the bench. "Ronald Weasley, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then have the decency to break things off with me like a real man. Do not make me break up with you by spinning some nonsense like what you're trying to feed me now."

Ron stood up, too. "I'm not lying! Rebecca -"

Throwing her hands in the air, Rebecca turned to stomp off, almost crashing into Harry and Hermione.

"What?" she yelled. "Are you here to back up his delusions? My God, Ron, you really did cover all the bases, didn't you?"

"Rebecca …"

Hermione didn't speak. Instead, she took Rebecca's arm and pulled her deep into the trees, away from the prying eyes of people who were watching the argument in fascination. She waited for the boys to join them, casting a silencing charm for good measure.

"I know this sounds insane -" she began.

"Hermione, don't make me not like you," Rebecca interrupted.

" - but it's true. I found out I was a witch when I was 11, when I got my acceptance letter to Hogwarts. So did, Harry. We didn't grow up in magical families like Ron, so it was new to us."

"And you just went to this magical boarding school?" Rebecca scoffed.

"Yes. And it changed my life."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. She should have paid closer attention in her abnormal psychology class. If she had, shed know how to deal with three people who insisted they were magical.

"I don't blame you for not believing us," Hermione said. "But let us try to prove it. Please?"

Rebecca sighed and waved a hand in a 'Go ahead' gesture. Hermione looked at Harry who took out his wand, said a spell, and placed a dozen long-stemmed red roses in Rebecca's arms.

"That's just one of Ron's magic tricks," Rebecca muttered, refusing to be charmed or amazed by the gesture.

"OK." Hermione thought. After a second, she raised her wand, said a spell and suddenly the birds above them weren't randomly chirping, but singing Tony Bennett's _The Way You Look Tonight_.

Rebecca was a sucker for old music, but she never told Hermione that.

"How did you …"

"Ron," Hermione nudged.

He took his wand, pointed it at nothing and muttered a spell. Seconds later, two dozen butterflies appeared, which was enchanting enough, but then they flew together to create the shape of a heart.

"Ohmigod," Rebecca sat on the ground. Hard. Ron kneeled before her.

"Are you OK?"

"You're a wizard," she said in an awed voice.

He nodded.

"Your friends are wizards – and witches."

"Yes."

"And your family."

"Right."

"Oh God."

She stared at him for a minute before lifting shaking hand to his face, lightly tracing his nose, eyes and cheekbones with her fingers. He smiled at her, though his eyes were wary. He looked … he looked how he always looked. Her Ron. Her love.

"Can we be together?" she whispered. "Can a wizard and a, what's the word?"

"Muggle."

"Right, muggle. Are we even allowed to be together?"

Ron swallowed nervously. "It's not ideal in our world, but it happens – and laws are changing so that when it does, it's better for everyone. But, honestly, I wouldn't care if it was illegal because I love you and I would walk away from everything if that's what I had to do to be with you. In fact …"

She stared as he dug in his pocket, bringing out a small black box. She looked up at Harry and Hermione, both who had awed expressions on their faces.

"Rebecca Ayrn," Ron said in a clear voice. "Will you marry me?"

* * *

><p>"I can't believe it," Hermione said, walking out the fireplace. "I can't believe it."<p>

"I know," Harry replied, a step behind her. "You've been saying that since we left the park."

"It's just so … unbelievable! Ron! _Our _Ron is getting married. I can't believe it."

Harry rolled his eyes, but he knew what Hermione meant. He had no idea his friend was that serious about Rebecca. He knew he loved her. He knew he wanted to share his secret, but he figured another year before Ron would even think about marriage.

"Sirius!" Hermione yelled. "Sirius, come down here! We have something to tell you!"

Filling the teakettle, Hermione bounced on the balls of her feet with excitement. Her best friend was getting married. She got to watch as two people took the first step in a lifetime commitment. It was amazing, beautiful. Her heart felt full. Everything was going to be all right; she knew it.

"Hermione?"

She turned to look at the man standing in the doorway.

"Sirius! You will not believe what happened! Ron asked Rebecca to marry him!"

He didn't react.

"Sirius. Did you hear me?" She walked toward him. His face was pale. His eyes were hollow. "What is it? What happened?"

"Bill …"

"Bill? What about Bill!? Is he OK?"

"Bill … he was found … at St. Mungo's …"

"He's at St. Mungo's? Is he going to be OK?" she asked, trying to push down the bubble of hysteria clawing at her throat.

"They think so."

"Let's go. We've got to go now!" She turned to turn off the stove. Her coat. Where was her coat?

"Hermione … Remus …"

She stopped. No. She didn't want to hear this. She wanted to focus on Bill. She had to focus on Bill. If she focused on Bill, she couldn't worry about Remus. He was fine. He had to be.

"What about Remus, Sirius?" Harry asked in a quiet voice.

"He's missing."


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N – Cliffhangers are the worst, aren't they? I feel guilty for that. I really do, but it needed to be done.**

**Remember, I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. **

* * *

><p>He's missing.<p>

He's missing. He's missing. He's missing.

Hermione couldn't stop repeating the words in her head.

He's missing. He's missing. He's missing.

Ten letters. Three syllables. Two words.

She loved words. She had always loved words. The day she figured out that letters made words and words made stories and stories led to information - it opened her world. She valued words, revered them. She never imagined they could be used against her, that they could destroy her.

"Hermione?"

She heard Sirius. She did. But he sounded so far away. He wasn't, though. He was right there, beside her. Why did he sound so far away?

She leaned against the wall. She couldn't feel her feet. She couldn't stay standing. She slid to the floor, bringing her knees to her chest, not reacting when Sirius sat beside her. They were in the hallway at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, waiting for news about Bill. The entire Weasley clan, plus Rebecca and Harry, were in the waiting room. Hermione couldn't be there. She couldn't face Fleur, or Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. This was her fault, all her fault. She backed Bill up when he offered to help Remus. She told Remus she'd feel better if Bill went with him. She put Bill in harm's way and now Remus was paying for it.

He's missing. He's missing. He's missing.

"Bill is going to be fine, Hermione," Sirius said in a soothing voice. That wasn't right. Sirius wasn't soothing. Sirius was brisk. Abrupt. Sarcastic. Remus was soothing. Oh God, _Remus._

He's missing. He's missing. He's missing.

"The healers said a few days rest and he'll be able to go home."

He's missing. He's missing. He's missing.

"We'll get to see him in a little bit. He can tell us about Remus."

He's missing. He's missing. He's missing.

"Hermione? Hermione, don't do this," Sirius' voice broke. He couldn't lose her; he couldn't. He made a promise to take care of her. He was going to keep that promise. He always kept his promise. "Please. You need to stay here with me, OK? Stay with me."

She wasn't going anywhere. She was stuck here. Stuck. Without Remus. Where was he? He would know what to say, what to do. Where was he?

She felt Sirius hand on hers. She gripped it. Tight. She needed to hold on to something.

"Hermione. Sirius."

Sirius looked up at Kingsley Shacklebolt. He was wearing his usual purple robes, his gold earring twinkling in his ear. Usually tall and imposing, he looked exhausted. That scared Hermione even more.

"Bill is awake. He wants to see Hermione."

"Hermione." Sirius nudged her shoulder with his. "Love, we need to go."

She didn't react, but when he stood up, she did, too, her grip on his hand still tight as they walked into Bill's room. Several redheads crowded the small space. There was sniffling, the shuffling of feet as Hermione stepped inside. She brought her face up to look at Fleur. Without a word, the blond woman walked to Hermione and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing tightly. A few seconds later, Hermione slowly lifted her arms to hug her back.

"It's not your fault," Fleur whispered fiercely. "Do not feel guilty."

Kissing Hermione on both cheeks, she walked back to her husband, taking one of his hands in both of hers. Hermione squashed the bubble of jealousy that rose at the gesture. Why did she get to hold his hand? Why did she get to sit on his bed, to smile at him? Why will she get to lecture him about rest and potions, maybe even get upset about the work that went into caring for him as he healed?

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair!

"… we didn't see him coming," Bill was saying. "We had no warning, no scent, but it wasn't an accident. He was looking for us."

"Who?" Kingsley asked.

"Fenrir Greyback."

Hermione's head snapped up. "That can't be," she whispered.

"It was him, Hermione," Bill said, unconsciously touching the scars on his cheek. "He's not someone you forget."

"But he's dead," she whispered. "At Hogwarts ... the battle … Ron and Neville dueled … he lost … we were told he was dead."

"Presumed dead," Kingsley said. "We never found a body, so we weren't 100 percent."

"WHAT?"

Everyone jumped at Hermione's shout.

"You sent Remus out there when you knew there was a chance Fenrir Greyback was still alive?! Do you know the hatred he has for Remus? For Bill?" She wasn't aware that she had approached Kingsley, was hitting him with her fists until Sirius wrapped his arms around her waist, dragging her away. "How could you!? Were your goddamned political aspirations so important, you deliberately put Remus and Bill at risk!?"

"Hermione …" Sirius tightened his grip.

"How could you do this?" she cried. "He trusted you!"

"Remus knew the risk, Hermione," Kingsley said. "He knew and he went anyway."

"He would never have gone if you hadn't made him," she accused.

"_Made him?! _He wanted to go! He wanted the chance to make things better for him, for others like him. We wanted to marry you, Hermione! He couldn't do that without changing the laws."

"_Wants to_," Sirius said fiercely, his breath choppy as he held on to Hermione who had stopped struggling, but remained tense. He tightened his grip. He knew her. The second he loosened his hold, she'd take off.

"What?" Kingsley asked.

"Not he wanted to; wants to. Remus is not dead, Kingsley. Do not talk about him like he is." He turned toward Bill, who was struggling to keep his eyes open. "Do you know where he is, Bill?"

He shook his head. "We fought. Greyback, he was alone, but he had the upper hand. He was coming for me and Remus … he changed, dragged him away. I couldn't follow. Hermione, I'm sorry, but I couldn't follow him."

He lifted his arm, holding something in his hand. She wiggled out of Sirius' arms walked closer to see what it was.

Remus' wand.

She heard Harry suck in his breath, Mrs. Weasley let out a sob. Her own hand shook as she took the wand, staring at it, as if it could tell her where to find its owner.

"It's not your fault, Bill," she said, her voice emotionless as she pocketed Remus' wand with her own. She avoided looking at everyone as she backed out of the room. She had to go. She had to go now. "I'm sorry, but I need … I need to go."

Turning, she ran, Sirius a few steps behind her.

"Hermione!" he yelled, ignoring the glares of the healers as he chased after her. "Hermione, wait!"

She stopped. The tears she could no longer hold at bay were streaming down her cheeks. She was gasping for breath, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wild. "He's not dead, Sirius."

"I know."

"No, _I_ know," she told him, desperate to make him understand. This wasn't wishful thinking, this was face. He had to believe her. "He's part of me Sirius. If he was dead, I'd know."

Sirius stepped forward, slowly. "Do you know where he is? Can you … I don't know … feel him?"

She shook her head. "No. But I know he's alive."

He nodded. He believed her. He had to. He couldn't lose Remus. He couldn't lose another friend. He studied Hermione's face, looking to see if there was any chance she was lying, if she was telling him what he wanted to hear, needed to hear, but he could tell she believed every word she said.

She was telling the truth.

"You have to promise me," he said, taking her hand, "that you will tell me if that changes."

She stiffened.

"I'm not saying it will," he stressed. "But if it does, I need you to be honest with me. Promise."

She nodded. "I promise."


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N – This is a shorter chapter, but seeing as you get two in one day, I'm sure you'll understand, right? **

**I'll apologize now for the cliffhanger. **

**As always, I own no part of Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>She walked in the library for the first time in months, going directly to the bookcase near the back, the one that held the collection of the Black family's collection of dark magic texts. Sirius had talked about getting rid of them, but Remus stopped him, telling him that the key to beating something was understanding it first.<p>

That's what she was going to do.

She grabbed an armful of books, not even sure what she was looking for, and carted them to the middle of the room. A quick cloaking spell transformed their appearance. She didn't want Sirius to know what she was doing. He would worry. Harry couldn't know, either. He was gone, part of the search team retracing Remus' last known steps, but he'd be back. He could come back with Remus. She knew that. But she wasn't going to wait. She was going to prepare for what she needed to do if everything else failed.

"Constant vigilance," she murmured.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at Sirius. He looked like hell. He needed to sleep. He couldn't get sick.

"Love, you've been in here for hours. You need to sleep. You can't get sick."

Her laugh was hollow. "I was just thinking the same thing about you."

He walked inside, taking a seat on the floor and picking up one of the books she'd already read. It was a book filled with revenge spells, but all he saw was one of Remus' defense against the dark arts texts. His eyes narrowed as he studied Hermione, who had gone back to reading and scribbling something on parchment. "Hermione?"

No answer.

"Hermione!"

She jumped. "What?"

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"I know you. You are incapable of doing nothing."

She didn't answer, but looked at him. Her gaze was steady as they locked eyes.

"Hermione," Sirius pleaded. "Please don't … Let the aurors do their job. Please. Promise me you won't do anything, OK? That you'll stay here?"

She nodded. "I promise."

This time, he didn't believe here.

* * *

><p>Days passed. Hermione spent most of them holed up in the library, coming out only to eat. A few times she'd disappear for a couple of hours, but she always left a note and was always back when she said she'd return, never looking worse for the wear. Sirius tried to relax, to tell himself she wasn't planning anything, but he knew better. He knew how he reacted under stress and grief.<p>

Hermione was capable of so much more.

She was frustrated. She had read every book in the Black's dark magic collection but didn't have nearly enough information; not yet. She had visited store in Knockturn Alley, but found nothing in there that she didn't already have access to at Sirius' house. She considered going to the Ministry, but rejected the thought as quickly as it came. She would not ask anyone there for help.

_"You're too stubborn," Remus told her._

_She looked up from the cookbook, trying to figure out why her attempt at homemade bread tasted nothing like Molly Weasley's; why Padfoot was in the backyard this very moment using the loaf of brown bread like a chew toy._

_"I'm not stubborn," she grumbled._

_"Sweetheart, you've been baking all day. Our kitchen belongs in a fairy tale – the first loaf was too hard, the second loaf was too soft."_

_She sighed. "Do you have a point, Remus?"_

_"It's not a bad thing to ask for help."_

_He left the kitchen after that. She remembered how much she wanted to throw the bag of flour at his head. She didn't need anyone's help. She could do this. She just needed to read the instructions again. Obviously, she was missing something … She sat at the table, the frustration of the situation, the stupid, silly situation, making her floo to the Weasleys' for a heart-to-heart with Molly Weasley._

_She returned with two loaves of brown bread that she had baked herself. Remus never said a word; just asked for seconds._

Hermione stared at the books, her notes, a simple memory giving her an idea.

It's not a bad thing to ask for help.

Determined, she sat at Remus' desk and wrote a letter. Minutes later, Sirius' owl was in the air to make the delivery. She didn't know if this would work, if he would even reply, but she had to try.

* * *

><p>He stared at the letter. Of all the people in the world who would sooner die than ask for his help, she was at the top of the list. He ignored her request for one day, then another. He knew the search wasn't going well. He may not work in the Ministry, he may not have the contacts he once did, but <em>The Daily Prophet <em>was having a field day with the story.

The werewolf. The muggle-born witch. Soul mates fighting for the greater good.

It made him sick. No, not sick. Annoyed. After all these years, after everything she's seen, everything she's done, she still subscribed to Albus Dumbledore's way of thinking: love conquered all.

She was supposed to be smarter than that.

He studied the letter. It was so her. She wanted something from him, needed something from him, but she wouldn't beg. She barely even asked. She was straightforward, precise, in her request without giving anything away. If he wanted to know more, he'd have to meet her.

Dipping his quill in ink, he agreed to meet her for lunch. He promised nothing more, nothing less. He, too, could hold his cards close to his chest.

* * *

><p>She walked into the restaurant, a tiny café on the corner of London's west side. She knew the chances of her running into anyone she knew, anyone he knew, were unlikely. That's why he chose it.<p>

Smoothing her hands over her gray dress, she walked to the hostess and gave her name. A minute later, she was led to a table in the café's furthest corner. He was already there, his gray eyes assessing as he stood up.

"Granger," he said.

"Hello, Draco."


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N – I love that all of you love the direction this story has taken. Poor Remus and Hermione; they were so happy just a few chapters ago! I was prepared for them to get married and have babies, but now ...**

**Some of you really want to hear from Remus. I do, too. evil grin**

**I own nothing related to Harry Potter. I just like to borrow the characters and make them do what I tell them.**

* * *

><p>"I'm surprised you agreed to meet me," Hermione said.<p>

"If you think so little of me, perhaps I should go," Draco replied dryly.

Hermione reminded herself to be polite. She needed his help. "I apologize. That was rude of me."

Draco pulled out her chair and gestured impatiently for her to sit. She was so surprised that she did. "To be honest, I considered ignoring your letter," he said, picking up the menu, eyeing her over the top. "I did for a few days."

She found herself smiling at his confession. She expected nothing else. "We don't need to do this."

He focused on the menu. "Do what?"

"The 'friends meeting for lunch' thing," she told him.

"We're not friends."

"Exactly. Let's skip the formalities and get the reason we're here."

"It's lunchtime. I'm hungry," he replied, still not looking at her. "Open the menu and order something because you are too thin and it makes your hair look even more ridiculous. I didn't know that was possible."

Hermione mouth fell open in surprise. Everyone – Sirius, Harry, Ron, Mrs. Weasley – has coddled her since Remus disappeared. To be honest, they've been coddling her ever since he left. No one snapped at her. No one told her what to do; it was all pampering and indulging. It was sweet, supportive and oh so frustrating. Feeling more like herself than she had in weeks, Hermione picked up the menu, resolving to order the most expensive meal offered.

"By the way, you're paying Granger."

Screw it. She's still going to order the lobster.

* * *

><p>He watched her eat. Her years of hanging around Weasley evident as she scarfed the second serving of bread the waiter brought to their table, consumed her salad, and devoured her lobster roll. He finished his portobello burger and slapped her hand away when she tried – again – to snag a French fry from his plate.<p>

"Living with animals has changed you," he observed.

"And?" She raised a brow at him.

"And what?"

"I'm waiting for the insult, Draco."

He smiled slowly. "I'm still trying to decide whether or not it's an improvement."

She rolled her eyes as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin, feeling … well, feeling something. It was an improvement.

"May I interest either of you in dessert?" the waiter asked as he cleared their dishes.

Draco looked at Hermione with raised eyes. She shook her head.

"Just the check, please," she replied.

Waiting until the waiter was out of earshot, Hermione leaned forward, her face serious. "Now that we've dispensed with the meal, could I please tell you why I need to see you?"

"By all means," he drawled.

"I gather you already know."

"I have a pretty good idea, but enlighten me. I've been starved for entertainment as of late."

"Fenrir Greyback."

He didn't respond.

"He's alive."

He didn't look surprised.

"I'm convinced he has Remus."

He faked a yawn. "What does this have to do with me?"

"You know him."

"Hardly."

"He stayed at your house -"

"He was _not _a guest in my parents' home," he hissed, his eyes flashing in anger.

"But he was there," she hissed. "When I was being tortured, he was there. He watched. _You watched_."

He laughed sardonically. "Is that your plan, Granger; to make me feel guilty to the point that the only way I can live with myself is to help you?"

She sat back in her seat. Suddenly, she was tired. For weeks, she'd been operating on momentum, her determination at finding Remus pushing her beyond exhaustion. She barely ate. She hardly slept. Her sole focus was him. She knew he was alive. She was determined to find him. She'd do _anything_ to find him, but now …

Draco was her last hope. If he refused to help, it was over. She didn't know what she expected from Draco Malfoy. This was the boy who called her "Mudblood" for nearly seven years; who took every opportunity he had to torture her and her friends. He didn't have a compassionate bone in his body. Sure, he managed to escape punishment following the war, but that didn't make him a good person.

"I don't know what I expected, Draco," she said in a drained voice. "Obviously, whatever it was, it was too much."

Standing, she took some Muggle money out of her purse and set it on the table.

"Owl me if it's not enough; I'll reimburse you." Turning, she walked out of the café and, on a whim, turned left. She needed to find a place where she could cry. One long, loud, hard cry and then she'd go home, ready for another round of reassuring smiles for everyone who worried about her.

Someone grabbed her arm. On instinct, she whirled around, wand in hand.

"Put that away," Draco hissed, tightening his grip and pulling her into the shadows of a nearby alley. "Do you want to be seen?"

She did as she was told, but didn't let down her guard. "What do you want, Draco?"

"I thought you needed my help."

"I think you made it quite obvious you weren't interested in being helpful."

"Give a man a minute to catch up," he growled. "We're not all like you, thinking a million thoughts a second."

She crossed her arms and waited.

"Yeah, I know Greyback is alive. I don't know where he is. He was never too popular among wizards, even when he was fighting on Voldemort's side."

"Why was he let in?"

"Because he was ruthless. He wanted to infect as many people as possible so his kind could overpopulate ours. His goal fit well with Voldemort's at the time. It was short-term thinking. Had things worked out differently, I'm sure Greyback would have been killed eventually."

"And you're giving me this history lesson because …"

"Because you need to know what you're up against, Granger! He attacked your lover when he was a child! He loves going after women and children. Did you know that? He gets off on those who are weaker than him. If you and Potter and Weasley hadn't escaped that day, you would have been given to him. The Cruciatus Curse is child's play to what he would have done to you, what he will do to you if you go after him."

"He has Remus, Draco," she said quietly. "I don't have a choice."

He stepped closer so they were barely nose-to-nose. "Are you prepared to be ruthless? Are you prepared to use magic you've never considered? Are you prepared to go so far, you might not find your way back?"

"I am."

"Are you sure?" He grabbed her arm, the one Bellatrix had cut into with her wand. Muttering a spell, he removed her glamour, holding it up for her to see. "You got off easy with this, Granger. Greyback … he will kill you. He'll torture you, he'll rape you, and then he will kill you. And believe me when I say you will be grateful for death."

She nodded. "I know."

Sighing, he dropped her arm. "If he does have Lupin, he'll kill him, too."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Draco shook his head. "Damn Gryffindor."

Holding out an arm, he waited for her to take it. A second later, they were gone.

* * *

><p>She sat in the cream-colored armchair, waiting for Draco to return. Looking around his London townhouse, she had to smile. He may not have the power or the reputation he grew up with, but he still had the money to live the life he chose. She imagined he enjoyed the perks the Muggle world offered him that the wizarding world did not. Disdain was easy to overcome when your ego controlled you, after all.<p>

"This is it," Draco said, walking into the room with several battered books. "Most of my family's, let's call them 'questionable items,' were seized after the war, but my father had hidden these well. I expect not to be tied to them."

"I'm not here as a Ministry employee." She wasn't even sure she still was a Ministry employee.

"Very well," he said, handing her three books and keeping two for himself. Settling in the armchair opposite Hermione, he conjured a crystal decanter of whiskey and two glasses on the glass coffee table in front of them, and opened a book.

"What are you doing?"

"Reading. It's been known to happen."

"But why?"

He sighed. "I owe Potter, OK? I don't like having a debt over my head. Now shut up."

She opened the top book in her pile. Immediately, a feeling of cold rushed over her body. It was almost like the time a dementor was on the Hogwarts Express and Remus ... She blinked her eyes. No. She could not think about Remus. Not now. She studied the book. It was just a coincidence. It was a breeze, perhaps, but a quick look at the balcony confirmed that the doors were closed. She glanced at the book warily and looked at Draco to see if he felt it, too, but he continued to read, undisturbed. Ignoring the feeling of cold fingers wrapping around her heart, she pressed on.

They read for more than an hour, the only sound was Draco sipping whiskey. She declined his offer of a drink.

"My father kept a journal."

Hermione looked up. "I'm sorry?"

Draco held up a leather bound book, his face expressionless. "My father. He kept a journal. It has information about the first war, the second, Potter. You're in there. And Greyback."

"Is there anything that can help me?"

He tossed the book in her lap. "Quite a bit, in fact."

She picked it up, but his arm shot out to cover hers before she opened it. "Don't read it here, OK? I don't want to be around when you read it."

She nodded.

"And don't pity me!" he growled, his grip tightening on her arm. "The last thing I want is you feeling sorry for me."

"Should I go?"

He nodded, letting her arm going to reach for his drink. Hermione gathered the books.

"Draco. Thank you for this. Truly. I don't know -"

"You want to thank me, Granger? Destroy those. Once you get what you need, destroy them," he looked at her, his eyes cold. "Do NOT keep them around for others to discover. Promise me."

"I promise."

He nodded.

"Um … I'll show myself out."

He gave no indication that he heard her, his eyes on the amber liquid in the glass. Sighing, she put the books in her bag and walked to the door.

"Granger."

She turned. "Yes?"

Still staring at his glass, not her, he spoke. "You know this is a suicide mission, right?"

"How long have you known me, Draco?"

He scoffed. "Too long."

"Then you know most of my life has been a suicide mission."

He didn't respond.

"Thanks again. Really."

He watched as she walked out the door. Holding his glass in a mock salute, he finished the liquid in one swallow.

**So here's a funny story. I sent the next chapter of my book to my writing partner the other day and she texted me to ask if I changed the name of the male love interest. Our conversation:**

**"You called him Remus three times."**

**"Weird."**

**"Are you writing FF again?"**

**"No!"**

**"You said that story was to get you comfortable writing love scenes."**

**"It was a writing exercise!"**

**"And now?"**

**"I can quit anytime I want to!"**

**I'm not sure she believes me. :D**


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N - The drama continues ...**

**I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>She stepped into the kitchen, teeth chattering, fingers ice-cold.<p>

"What the hell?" Sirius grabbed her arm, pulling her into him, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing his hands up and down her back. She was freezing. "Hermione, what happened?"

She couldn't talk; just burrowed closer to him, the warmth of his body slowly transferring to her. Tossing a handful of floo powder in the fireplace, Sirius called the only person he could think of. "Molly!" he bellowed.

Seconds later, Mrs. Weasley stepped into the kitchen, one hand on her heart. "Sirius, for the love of – oh, my girl, what happened?!"

"Cold," Hermione mumbled. "Can't get warm."

Molly walked over to the liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of firewhiskey. Pouring a generous glass, she handed in to Sirius. "Make her drink it all," she said. "I'll start the shower."

She rushed out of the room. Sirius backed away from Hermione, flinching as she whimpered, and held the glass to her lips. "Drink, love. Come on."

She took a swallow, coughing violently as the liquid burned down her throat. She pushed the glass away, but he was stronger.

"No! You need this. Drink!"

His harsh tone got through better than pleading and she finished the glass. Sirius kept one arm around her as he went to the stove to put a kettle on, and then sat at a chair, pulling her in his lap, to wait. "Where were you? What happened?"

"I told you; I met a friend for lunch."

"Were you in Iceland?"

Sarcasm. She missed it.

Molly scurried back in the room. "Good, you've got the kettle started. Hermione, come with me. Sirius, bring her tea when it's ready."

Not waiting for a reply, she took Hermione's hand and pulled her up to the third floor, into her bathroom which was already filled with steam from the shower. "OK, dear, take off your clothes and hop in," she said.

Hermione did as she was told, aware that Molly was back in the bedroom, likely looking for something for her to wear. It wasn't until she stepped inside the shower stall that it hit her – she was in her bedroom, the bedroom she shared with Remus. She hadn't been in there for months. The last time she was in this shower, he was with her. Sitting on the floor, she curled into a ball and cried as the water cascaded over her nude body.

Molly's heart broke as she listened to Hermione sob. She wanted to go in there, cradle her girl, but she didn't. No one had seen Hermione cry since she learned Remus was missing. She had months of anger, fear, hurt to get through. As horrible as it sounded, as bad as it made her feel, she needed to let it out. Slowly closing the bathroom door, Molly cast a silencing spell to give the young witch her privacy.

"Is she OK?" Sirius asked, walking in the room with Hermione's tea.

"She'll be fine." Molly gave the wizard a patient smile. She'll admit she wasn't always a fan of Sirius Black's. Impulsive, reckless; he was not the best role model. She wasn't thrilled when Harry and Hermione decided to live at Grimmauld Place instead of the Burrow, but seeing how Sirius has cared for Hermione in Remus' absence has softened most of the hard opinions she had for him.

"Did she say what happened?"

Molly shook her head. If she had to venture a guess, she imagined it had something to do with Remus and no amount of prodding would get it out of her. Stubborn did not begin to describe Hermione Granger. Changing the subject, Molly looked around the bedroom, hands on her hips. "How can Hermione sleep with all this dust?"

"She doesn't sleep here," Sirius replied, missing the sharp look Molly gave him. "She set up a bedroom of sorts in the study."

Molly sighed. Her poor girl. "Well, she's going to need to nap, so let's get this place cleaned up and ready for her."

"Molly …"

"No, Sirius. She can't hide forever. If we need to force her to face what's happening to get some sort of reaction out of her, we will. It's time."

* * *

><p>She cried until she was empty. Hoisting herself up, she sat on the small bench in the shower, taking deep breaths until she felt in control again. She heard the door open slightly.<p>

"Hermione?"

"I'm OK."

"All right. Are you ready to come out?"

She wasn't. She wanted to stay in here, forever. She wanted to remember the last time she was here, with Remus, her legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her against the wall, slowly moving in and out of her. They hadn't spoken. Instead, they locked eyes and let their bodies say the words they were too scared to voice.

"I think I'm going to take a bath."

If Molly thought that was odd, she didn't say. She pushed the door open, set a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a T-shirt on the counter, along with her tea. She added Hermione's wand to the pile, too.

"Sirius and I will be downstairs. Let us know if you need anything else."

"Thank you."

Waiting until the door clicked shut, Hermione turned off the shower and walked to the hot tub, turning the taps to fill it with nearly scalding water. She felt better. She had feeling in her fingers again, so that was an improvement. She didn't know what charms were used to protect the books Draco gave her, but they were powerful, which meant the information had to be formidable, too. She needed to be smart about this. It wouldn't help anyone if she got hurt before she even started.

Sinking into the water with a sigh, she forced herself to focus on pleasant thoughts, happy memories. If Remus was here, he'd give her chocolate. Feeling a sob rise in her throat, she pushed it down.

"Happy thoughts," she whispered.

_"Ohmigod!"_

_"What?" he called from his bed._

_"Your bathroom!" She turned in a circle, taking in the room that was nearly the size of her bedroom. The shower could fit three people easily, with multiple showerheads to reach each of those people easily, but it was the hot tub on the other end that had her mouth hanging open in shock. "How have I not known this existed?"_

_A pair of arms circled her waist. "You think you and Harry are the only ones Sirius spoils?"_

_"Not like this!"_

_He chuckled, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before walking to the tub to start the water._

_"If I had known he was willing to do this, I would have asked for more than bookshelves in my bedroom," Hermione told him._

_"He redid your bathroom, too," Remus told her, sinking into the warm water. Crooking his finger, he waited for her to join him, sighing as she settled in front of him, her back against his chest._

_"Not like this," she repeated, closing her eyes on a contented sigh. "I'm using yours from now on."_

_"What's mine is yours, sweetheart."_

She sat up, not even caring about the water the sloshed on to the floor.

_What's mine is yours._

Jumping out of the tub, she pulled on the clothes Molly left for her and ran into her bedroom, grabbing Remus' wand from his nightstand. They had assumed he lost it in the fight with Greyback, but what if he left it behind? What if he wanted Bill to find it and return it to Hermione? What if, somehow, he transferred his magic into his wand? Was that even possible?

"Remus," she whispered.

* * *

><p>Her mind was racing, her thoughts were crowded when she made her way downstairs, a pair of thick socks covering her feet and an oversized hooded sweatshirt over her flannel pants and shirt. She worked up a small smile for Molly and Sirius, who stopped what they were talking about when she walked into the kitchen.<p>

"What?" she asked, her mind immediately thinking the worst.

Sirius handed her _The Daily Prophet_. On the front page was a story about the proposed changes to the anti-werewolf laws.

"Wizengamot will vote on Thursday," Sirius said. "Kingsley owled; he wants us to be there."

Hermione sat down, still reading the article. Turning the page, she skipped over Rita Skeeter's column – how she hated that woman – but seeing Remus' name in print made her go back and read.

_The vote comes nearly two months after Remus Lupin's disappearance. The werewolf was on a reconnaissance mission for the Ministry of Magic when he disappeared somewhere near Leyburn. His whereabouts are unknown. Efforts to locate Lupin have not been successful, with sources telling me that the search will soon come to an end._

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked, looking up from the paper. "Are they calling off the search? Do they think he's dead?"

"It's Skeeter," Sirius scoffed. "Crazy bat makes up most of what she writes; you know that."

"But what if they do? What if no one believes he's alive?"

Sirius looked at her. "Is he still alive?"

Hermione didn't flinch. "Yes."

"Then they'll keep looking."

* * *

><p>The sound of the metal clanging against metal tore him from his dream, the image of Hermione smiling at him fading as he struggled to open the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. He shuddered, unbelievably cold in the small, damp, cell with only rags for clothes. He had no idea what time it was, what day it way, how long he'd been here. He'd tried making hash marks on the cement wall, but with no window, no light, he wasn't sure what he was marking. The full moon, when he transformed, was the only time he knew what was happening around him, they only time he was let out of his prison.<p>

To fight.

He heard heavy footsteps. Greyback. Struggling to pull himself into a seated position, to not appear beaten, Remus ignored the wounds that reopened under the effort, the broken fingers on his right hand, the dizziness that occurred whenever he wasn't lying down. His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten in … he didn't know how long. Greyback brought him food only when he felt like it, usually a few days leading up to the full moon to make their time together worth it for him.

"You missed a great time last night," Greyback taunted, dark eyes glittering with hate as he stood outside the bars, the scent of fresh blood clinging to him. "I came across a mother and two kids. She begged me for mercy, to take her and leave them alone. So brave. She reminded me of your Hermione."

He leaned closer, his words softer. "You do know she's coming, right? Can you feel it? She'll come for her mate and you will get one last look at her before I kill her."

Remus leapt to his feet, throwing himself at the bars, his arms reaching for Greyback's neck.

"You will not touch her," he growled.

Greyback chuckled. "Or what, cub? You'll preach to me about the traits of werewolves, all the good they've done or can do? That they deserve to be treated as the man they are 353 days out of the year?"

He reached inside his tattered black overcoat and pulled out a copy of _The Daily Prophet _he'd swiped from some wizard home.

"Wizengamot voted yesterday. You got your wish. Werewolves now have the same rights as man. Hermione was there, along with your friend Black. She didn't comment on the vote, but she had plenty to say about this piece of news." He looked up and sneered. "It seems they want to award you the Order of Merlin, First Class, but she refused. She took offense at the word posthumously."

Dropping the paper on the floor outside of Remus' cell, photo side down so he couldn't see Hermione, Greyback turned to leave.

"To be fair, she's right. You're not dead. Yet."

Remus fell back to the floor, his body shaking with the effort to stay upright for that long. Leaning back, he closed his good eye and waited for blessed sleep to take him to her.


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N – I just agreed to do a desert trail run with my best friend from college at the end of the month. It's only six miles, but it's in the desert (I don't live in the desert), on a trail (I've yet to do a trail run) and its three days after my half-marathon. Clearly my lack of sleep from writing this story is responsible for my bad decisions. **

**Hermione Granger, in my opinion, is one of the strongest female characters in literature. Here's hoping this chapter shows how awesome she is.**

**As always, I do not own Harry Potter. I just like to use the characters created by J.K. Rowling for my own amusement.**

* * *

><p>Harry stared at Hermione and Sirius. He did not want to have this conversation. He knew they knew what he was going to say, but that didn't make it any easier. If anything, it made things worse. He was going to break their hearts and they were going to try to make it better for him. What about them? Who is going to make things better for them?<p>

He cleared his throat. Hermione looked up from the pile of interview requests she'd received from Rita Skeeter ever since the anti-werewolf laws were abolished and she had refuted Remus' Order of Merlin designation. The public couldn't get enough of the muggle-born witch who refused to believe her werewolf mate was dead. Skeeter's copy was pulling in the readers, even without Hermione's cooperation, but she knew getting Hermione on the record was the ultimate prize.

Sirius kept his head down, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He held it together at the Ministry, at the Wizengamot vote, but once he got home, he locked himself in his room with a bottle of whiskey and the small black box Remus handed to him Christmas morning.

_"I knew it," Sirius smirked. "You love me. You really love me."_

_Remus rolled his eyes, keeping an ear out for Hermione. They were due at the Weasleys in a few minutes. "Sorry, Pads; my heart belongs to another."_

_Sirius took the platinum band with the small diamond out of the box and held it up to the light. Simple. Classic. That's Hermione. "So why am I admiring this ring and not Hermione?"_

_"Because I'm not giving it to her today. I want to wait until the law is repelled. Once it is, I plan to propose right there, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement chambers."_

_"Nice," Sirius grinned. "A great way to make a statement, plus she'll be on a victory high and will agree to anything."_

_Remus laughed. "I'm pretty sure she'll say yes, but it doesn't hurt to stack the deck in my favor."_

_Sirius tucked the box in his pocket. "I'll guard it with my life, Moony."_

_"Or at least better than you did for James."_

_"Hey! I was trying to give that woman a tip! She was a great dancer and deserved it! How was I supposed to know his ring was mixed in with my money? That's why Muggle money is stupid!"_

_"So you said 20 years ago."_

_"I got it back, didn't I?"_

_Remus laughed, remembering how a red-faced Sirius and a furious James had approached the exotic dancer after hours to explain the situation. Luckily, the woman had a romantic heart and handed the ring to James with her best wishes. They made a pact that night to NEVER tell Lily where her ring had been before James could place it on her finger._

_"Maybe I should hold on to it," Remus said, second-guessing his decision to leave the ring with Sirius._

_"I've got this, Moony! You can trust me."_

And he did have it. He even took the ring to the Ministry of Magic for the vote. He wanted part of Remus to be present and, truth be told, he had hoped his friend would magically show up. It happened in books and movies all the time; why couldn't it happen for him?

"Um, we had a meeting today at the auror office," Harry started, looking down at the table where his hands were gripped together. "They feel we've exhausted out leads. Remus has been gone three months and with no new information, they don't feel they can continue to dedicate so many aurors to the search."

"How many are they pulling?" Sirius asked.

Harry swallowed. "All of them. I'm sorry. As of this morning, the search for Remus has been called off."

Sirius jumped up, his chair crashing to the floor. He stood there, six-feet of anger, of fear. His eyes were dark, his face emotionless. He opened his mouth and Harry prepared himself, but instead he ran his hand down Hermione's hair and walked out of the kitchen without saying anything. A few seconds later, they heard the front door slam.

Harry reached over the table to take one of Hermione's hands with his own. "I'm so sorry. I tried to get them to change their minds, to let Ron and I keep looking, but ..."

She shook her head. She understood; she did. She didn't like it, but she understood. Three months was a long time.

"Can I do anything? Please, Hermione? Tell me there's something I can do."

She looked him in the eyes, her own deadly serious. "I want his file."

"What?"

"The search file. I want to see it."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione, I don't know how that's going to help."

"That's what I want, Harry. Make it happen."

And she, too, left the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Fred coughed, his eyes watering as he waved a hand in front of his face. "Hermione?"<p>

"Yes?" he heard her respond from somewhere in the room, but it was too foggy to see.

"I think …" he coughed again. "I think you bumped up the formula too much."

A second later, the fog cleared and he could see his friend, standing over a cauldron, a sheepish look on her face.

"You're right," she replied.

"I don't know why George wants to make Can't See Me stronger; we haven't had any complaints," Fred commented.

"You know your brother, always wanting to take things to the next level," she murmured.

He shrugged. "I guess. But we can't sell this."

"Oh, I agree; it's too volatile. I'll find a safe way to dispose of it."

"Are you sure?"

"I made it. I'll get rid of it."

Nodding, Fred dropped a kiss on the top of her head and walked to the door. "Um, Ron told us about the search being called off."

She didn't respond.

"If you need anything … if there's anything I can do, George can do …" he broke off helplessly. There was nothing he could do; his brother could do, in this situation. Why make the empty offer?

"I know," Hermione replied. "If you don't mind, I just want to work, OK? Stay busy."

He nodded and left the lab. Once the door was closed, Hermione counted to 60, locked the door and bottled every ounce of her extra-strength Can't See Me potion, tucking the bottles in an insulated box and sliding it into her bag. She had just unlocked the door when George walked in.

"Hey, how's it going, pet?"

She gave him an absent smile and pretended to look over her notes. "I don't think Fred's plans for a stronger Can't See Me are feasible, George."

He nodded. He thought his brother's idea was daft when Hermione first mentioned it to him, but she promised to explore the possibility to appease him anyway. She had a good heart like that.

"I'll let him know," he said.

"Oh, let me," she begged. "I think I'll be kinder."

He rolled his eyes. Like he cared about hurting Fred's feelings; it was a stupid idea, but this was Hermione. He wasn't going to say 'No' to her for anything. Not now.

"Whatever you want, pet."

* * *

><p>Hermione sat on her bed. It was early August, but she was wearing sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt and two pairs of socks. She cast several warming spells and her patronus was floating around her bed as she flipped through the books Draco gave her one last time. Her precautions helped, but not much. She still felt cold, dirty, every time she read the books. She now knew spells she never wanted to learn, attack methods she hoped she'd never have to use. Confident she had pulled everything she could from the ancient tomes, she packed them in a box and set it in her fireplace.<p>

"Incendio."

She watched as the books went up in flames, covering her ears as they screamed in protest. She looked at Lucius Malfoy's journal in distaste. He was explicit in recording Voldemort's actions during both wars, his plans for blood traitors, half-blood wizards and witches and, of course, muggle-borns. She wondered if Fenrir Greyback ever knew how little he meant to Lord Voldemort. The dark wizard's disdain for werewolves was something he only shared with a few insiders. She could use that to her advantage, along with the obsession he has for Remus.

"Hermione!" Sirius knocked on the door. "Love, are you ready? We're supposed to be at the Weasleys in 15 minutes. It's time to go."

He's right. It's time.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N – Did you all see the Lunar Moon yesterday? It was also werewolf awareness day, which I take to mean We Love Remus Lupin Day … although that's every day in my world. (Leafey – why would you want to seek treatment for your addiction?)**

**In case you forgot, I do not own Harry Potter. I just like to play with the characters created by J.K. Rowling.**

* * *

><p>"More potatoes, dear?"<p>

"Will someone pass the rolls?"

"Heads up!"

Hermione ducked as a dinner roll flew over her head.

"Fred! We do not throw food!"

"Especially when you throw like that! _Percy_ throws better than that!"

"Hey!"

It was loud. It was chaotic. It was messy. It was dinner at the Weasleys and it was what Hermione needed, what she wanted. Officially, the dinner was for Ginny. She graduated from Hogwarts in early June, but everyone was so concerned about Remus and Bill that it seemed wrong to celebrate her achievement. Truth be told, it still felt wrong, but Ginny would be leaving soon for training camp with the Holyhead Harpies and she wanted her family together for one last meal before she left.

Hermione wanted her family together for one last meal, too.

"Hermione, how are you?"

Hermione looked at Rebecca, who was trying to pretend having dinner with nearly two dozen witches and wizards was something she did often, but every time Molly would levitate a dish down the table, she jumped.

"I'm OK."

"Really? Because I'm here if you need to talk. Or cry. Or break things."

"Break things?"

"Oh yes, breaking things is great for stress, for sadness. Well, until you calm down and realize you broke things that you like. Then you get upset again," she shrugged helplessly. "It's a vicious cycle, really."

Hermione smiled. Harry would be fine; he had Ginny. And Ron would be fine because he had Rebecca. She glanced at Sirius, who was sitting on her right side. She wished she could guarantee he would be fine. Not having Remus around was killing him. He had already lost one best friend and surrogate sister when James and Lily were murdered. If she went through with her plan, and it didn't work, he would have to suffer through that again. She didn't want to do that to him, but she didn't have a choice.

Sirius looked at Hermione, who was staring at him with unshed tears in her eyes. "Are you OK?" he whispered.

She nodded and took his hand in hers, squeezing tightly. She refused to let go for the rest of the meal, eating left-handed even though it was a challenge. If anyone noticed, they didn't say anything.

It was late when they returned home, Hermione's good byes taking the better part of an hour as she was careful to hug everyone at least twice.

"Did you have fun?" Sirius asked, as Hermione got out cups for tea.

"I ate too much."

"It was probably time for that to happen," he said, reaching in the cupboard for tea.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Helping."

"No!"

"What?" He looked at her like she was crazy.

"I mean, no, thank you," she amended. "Go. Go sit in the study and I'll be there in a minute."

He gave her an odd look. "Are you sure you're OK?"

"Yes. Just full."

She knew he didn't believe her, but he left the kitchen. She finished making their tea, adding a sleeping drought to Sirius' cup. She didn't want to be deceptive. She knew he would be angry when he woke up, but she had to do this. Alone. After reading Lucius' journal, she knew a solo mission was the only option.

_He thirsts for the mudblood; I don't know why. I've asked and he growls in response. Bellatrix laughs. She thinks it's cute. That's the word she used: cute. Or maybe she loves picturing Hermione Granger in several pieces. Either way, the Dark Lord has promised her to Greyback the minute he has Harry Potter._

_I almost feel sorry for her._

She carried the tea into the study, handing Sirius his and sitting on the other end of the couch with her own. Blowing on the hot liquid, she took a tentative sip, letting out the breath she didn't realize she was holding when Sirius did the same.

"Did you put something in this?"

She froze. The potion had the slightest of aftertaste. Not many people would notice. Why would Sirius be one of the few who could?

"No."

"Come on. You put a shot of whiskey in here, didn't you?"

She forced a laugh. "Caught me," she murmured.

He took another sip before setting the cup down on the coffee table. "Hermione … we haven't really talked since they called off the search -"

"I don't want to talk."

"Love, you need to -"

"No. He's not dead, Sirius. I know that."

"So what, then? You are going to just live the rest of your life like a ghost!? Because that's what you've been for the past six months, Hermione!"

She wanted to run out of the room, but she couldn't. Not until he finished the tea, so she sat there and let him rave, clenching her fists until her fingernails gouged the palms of her hands. He couldn't know what she was going to do. He couldn't. Let him vent.

"I miss him, too, OK? Fuck, I miss him like crazy! What do you want me to do? Tell me and I'll do it, Hermione, but I can't keep living like this! I can't, OK?"

She picked up his tea and handed it to him. "Let's drink to Remus," she said.

He stared at her. It had been weeks since she said his name. She was sleeping in their room again, which was an improvement, but she locked herself of it inside most days. He knew she was planning something - how could she not? - but he had yet to figure it out. He believed loud and messy schemes; not meticulous strategy.

He lifted his cup to hers, touching the rims lightly.

"To Remus."

They both swallowed, draining the warm liquid. Hermione took Sirius' cup with hers and carried them to the kitchen. On her way back, she saw her friend nodding off on the couch.

"Sirius? I think dinner it catching up with you."

"Huh?"

"You should go to bed."

"Oh. Right." He clumsily got to his feet and walked to the door, pausing to give her a hug. "I'm sorry I yelled. I love you. You know that, right?"

She wrapped her arm around his waist and helped him up the stairs. He fell face down on to his bed, not even stirring when she removed his boots. Sitting on the side of his bed, she reached out a hand to touch the small moon on his collarbone.

"I'm sorry, too," she whispered. "I love you very much."

Rushing to her room, she took the bag she packed earlier out of the wardrobe, tossing in a few last-minute items. She placed her good bye note on her bed. She debated about leaving it for Sirius to find when he woke up, but this would buy her more time. Harry and Sirius would likely think she was sleeping or crying or plotting something if she wasn't at the table for breakfast. She estimated she had until lunchtime before they started knocking on her door. Leaving now, she had a 13-hour head start; if her one stop didn't take too long.

Looking around her room on last time to make sure she had everything she needed, she took a deep breath and apparated, arriving a moment later outside a small cottage. Lights were on in two windows, not that it mattered. Had it been dark, she would have woken the occupant up and not feel guilty about it at all.

Hermione strode to the door and knocked twice. A second later, a petite blond with tight curls and jeweled glasses cracked the door slightly to peek at the person on her doorstep.

"Well, well, well. Hermione Granger. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I need your help."

Rita Skeeter smiled slyly and opened the door wider.

* * *

><p>"Let me get this straight," she repeated. "You are going to rescue Remus Lupin, but you don't know where he is?"<p>

"I have a pretty good idea, but I need your help to get there."

"How?"

"Fenrir Greyback."

"What about him?"

"He has an obsession with Remus. And me. He wants me to come to him. It needs to be me. I won't be able to find him if someone is with me. I can't explain it, but he's cast some sort of spell that blocks his whereabouts from everyone else."

"I don't understand what role I play in this."

"I'm pretty sure he reads _The Daily Prophet_. Every time you write something about me, about Remus, I feel this burst of anger, rage. At first I thought it was just my usual reaction to your writing -"

"Careful, Miss Granger. You still need my help."

"Please," she sniffed. "We both know you're going to help me. The reward is too great."

"And what is that?"

"An exclusive. I find Remus, I bring him home and we have a sit-down interview with you, all access."

Rita's eyebrows raised in surprise. "All access?"

"We will answer every question."

She had to stop herself from licking her lips in anticipation. Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin. Two of the brightest minds to come out of Hogwarts, both with great connections and, to be honest, the greatest love story she ever heard of. Her readers would gobble it up. She could get another book deal. The possibilities …

"What if you aren't successful?"

Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a parchment, sealed with wax.

"This is my obituary and Remus'. If you don't hear from me by the next full moon, we're dead and this is yours to use as you see fit. If you try to open it before the next full moon, it will catch on fire."

"An obituary isn't as juicy as an exclusive."

Hermione smirked. "I agree. That's why you're going to help me."

"The next full moon is less than three weeks away."

"Then you won't have to wait long, will you?"

Rita took the sealed parchment. Studying it for a moment, she carried it to her desk and slid it inside a drawer. Walking back to her seat, she grabbed her notebook and quill.

"What do you want me to do?"

**Hermione is reaching out to all sorts of people for help with her mission. Did you see this one coming?**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N – I own nothing related to Harry Potter and the amazing world create by J.K. Rowling. **

**This is a short chapter. My apologies, but I'm taking off for a few days and figured something was better than nothing. Have a great weekend!**

**As always, thank you for reading.**

* * *

><p>"What do you mean you don't know where she is?!"<p>

Rita Skeeter's green eyes were shrewd as she studied the man who barged into her office. Miss. Granger warned her that Sirius Black would demand answers, would want to know where she got her information. She had assured the girl she could handle herself. Dealing with angry readers was part of the job.

"I don't know who you're talking about," she replied calmly.

He slapped that morning's issue of _The Daily Prophet_ on her desk. "The hell you don't! You have right here that sources say she's searching for Fenrir Greyback. She's the only one who could have told you that."

She leaned back in her chair. "Perhaps you don't know her as well as you think you do, Mr. Black."

He took out his wand. "Give me a reason, Skeeter. I beg you."

Waving her own wand to close the door to her office, she gestured for him to sit. Reluctantly, he did, though both still kept their wands trained on the other. "What I wrote is what I know, no more, no less," she said. "Miss Granger did come to see me and did tell me her plans, but that's all. I have no way of knowing where she is now."

"Is that what she told you to tell me?"

He was smarter than people gave him credit for. "It is, but it's also the truth. Mr. Black, you know as well as I do how smart this girl is. If anyone has a chance of accomplishing what she hopes to do, it's her."

"But she's alone."

"In the end, all of us are alone."

* * *

><p>Hermione took a deep breath. She was getting closer. She could feel it. She'd been traveling for hours, first apparating to various places around England to make following her difficult. Now, she was focused on Greyback. She knew he'd want to be somewhere close to a city, so he would be around people during the full moon. He didn't have the support of the Death Eaters anymore, so he'd want to be somewhere familiar, somewhere he felt comfortable.<p>

Kneeling on the ground, Hermione struggled to catch her breath, promising herself five minutes of rest before moving again. She could feel his anger, his anticipation.

Soon.

* * *

><p>He clutched the paper in his hands, his blue eyes glittering with excitement. He walked down to the basement to share the good news with his guest.<p>

She's coming.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N – I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p><em>He walked into their office, a pile of books in his arms. She was sitting on top of his desk, legs crossed and a smirk on her face.<em>

_"What?"_

_She said nothing. Intrigued, he set his books on her desk._ _"You're up to something."_

_She slid off the desk to walk to the door, pushing it closed and locking it. She performed a silencing spell while her back was to him and turned around. "Thank you for seeing me like this."_

_"Seeing you? Hermione, what are you talking about?"_

_She approached him slowly, her steps nervous, as if she was worried what might happen once she got to him._

_"I'm so overwhelmed," she said breathlessly. "This term is much harder than I anticipated."_

_"Term?" _

_"I've learned so much from you, professor," she continued. Now standing directly in front of his, she reached out to straighten his tie. "You've always been my favorite teacher. I want to do well in your class, but it's so hard when all I want to do …" She broke off and turned away._

_He smirked, catching on to her game. He reached out and grabbed her upper arm, turning her so she faced him again. "How can I help you, Miss Granger?"_

_She leaned forward, pressing her lips chastely to his. Jumping back, she started to apologize. He cut her off by grabbing her again, bringing her body flush with his and devouring her lips. "Is this what you want, Miss Granger?"_

_She moaned, rising to her tiptoes so she could press her lips against his more firmly._

_"Is this what you thought about when you fantasized about me, about us, Hermione?"_

_She didn't respond. Instead, she brought her hands to his robe to unbutton to the heavy garment, sliding his off his lithe frame. _

_"Answer me," he demanded._

_"Yes," she whispered between kisses. "I'd picture you in your office, trying to work, and I'd come see you. You'd try to send me away, but our passion would be too great. You'd sweep your desk clear, lift me on top and take me."_

_"Like this?" he grinned, doing just that. Books, parchment and quills went flying. Gripping her by her waist, he set her on his desk, nudging her legs apart so he was standing between her legs. It was his turn to remove her robe._

_"How naked would I make you?" he asked, kissing his way down her neck._

_"Mmm. We wouldn't have much time," she whispered. "You'd remove my shirt and bra, and push my skirt up."_

_He stepped back, a wicked look on his face. She loved when he looked at her like that._ _"You were thorough, sweetheart."_

_She grabbed him by the tie, bringing his face to hers. "Reality is better than the fantasy, professor."_

Remus opened his eyes, the memory of that afternoon so real, he could practically smell Hermione. Sighing at the cruelty of his mind, he rolled over to his hands and knees, giving himself a minute to gather his strength before he tried sitting up. He didn't know how much longer he could last like this. It was getting harder. He was cold. He was hungry. His muscles ached. His bones hurt. He did not want to leave Hermione alone; their bond was the only thing keeping him tethered to earth, but he didn't know how long that could last.

Mates rarely spent time apart. He'd been without his for months.

"She's coming."

His head jerked up, brown eyes narrowing at the monster smirking at him just outside his cage.

"You're lying," he growled.

"I'm not. You know I'm not." He leaned closer, his eyes glittering in anticipation, excitement. "I know you can smell her. I can, too."

Remus closed his eyes. That wasn't her scent. It couldn't be. She couldn't do this; she can't risk her life for his. She can't.

"You want to beg, don't you?" Greyback sneered. "I know you do."

He did. So much. But he wouldn't. He would not give him the satisfaction. "You don't want her," he whispered. "We both know that."

Greyback's eyes narrowed.

"Killing her won't change anything. I belong to her; I always have. Kill her, you kill me."

Greyback turned to leave.

"So be it."

* * *

><p>She stopped walking. This was it. She couldn't explain how she knows; she just does. This is where he's hiding, where he's keeping Remus, where Greyback will show himself. They will fight. She might win. She might lose. Sitting in the middle of the dense forest, she closed her eyes, focused her breathing, and gathered her magic. Her magic and Remus'. She'd need both if she was going to survive.<p>

"Hermione Granger."

Her eyes popped open. Standing by the tree, a smile on his face, was Greyback. He looked older than the last time she saw him, grayer in his hair and in the fur that covered part of his face. His clothing was dirty, tattered.

"Greyback," she replied calmly despite the frantic beating of her heart. She knew he could hear it, just as he could smell her fear. She couldn't be afraid. She moved to stand up and he was on her, his grip on her arm fierce.

"I wondered when you would get here," he snarled. "It took longer than I expected."

She felt removed from the experience. She could feel his hand on her, breathe his stench, but it didn't seem real. Focus, she needed to focus. "You didn't expect me to come unprepared."

"Of course not."

Practically dragging her through the woods, Hermione struggled to match his steps with her own. She wanted to fight. Oh, how she wanted to hurt this monster, but couldn't. Now now. She needed to be where Remus was first.

A cottage that wasn't there moments before appeared, Greyback opening the door and slamming it closed.

"I was under the impression that you didn't have magic of your own," she said.

He let go of her arm, pushing her so she fell to the ground, bruising her knees on the wood floor. She prepared herself for his next strike, but the kick to her ribs stole her breath. Gasping, she pushed the pain away.

_Focus on Remus. Ignore the pain; think of Remus._

"I don't need magic, witch," Greyback growled.

"Obviously you do or you would have been discovered months ago."

Reaching under his ragged coat, Greyback drew out a gold chain. Dangling from it was a tiny vial with dark liquid inside.

"Remus' blood?" she guessed.

"And yours. Combine the two with a favor someone owed me and it was easy to remain hidden from those I didn't want to find me."

Hermione pushed herself to her feet. "Why?"

His eyes narrowed.

"Why do this? No one knew where you were. You could have lived the rest of your life …"

He hit her again. She didn't fall this time, but she saw stars. "Are you honestly trying to talk to me, little girl?"

"I'm trying to understand out why. Why do you hate Remus so much? Is it because your bite didn't destroy him? Are you jealous?"

She stared at the werewolf, clarity coming to her in a flash.

"That's it, isn't it?" she whispered. "You sought him out for revenge, but it backfired. Your bite. You are convinced it made him yours. All this time … he went to school. He made friends. He found his mate."

Roaring, Greyback attacked, knocking Hermione to the ground. Gripping her chin in a bruising hold, he forced her to look at him.

"He isn't yours," he growled.

She smiled. "You're wrong."

Gripping her wand, and Remus', in her hand, she prepared to fight. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Greyback's body levitated above her own. She scrambled to her feet. Waving the wands, Greyback's body crashes into a wall, but it doesn't stop him. He rushed at her again, claws out, slicing her stomach. She feels her skin tear before she sees the blood. Gasping, she raised the wands again, but he knocks both from her hands.

"Now what, witch?" he yelled and backhanded her face. She fell to her hands and knees, screaming when she feels his claws in her back.

_"Are you prepared to be ruthless? Are you prepared to use magic you've never considered? Are you prepared to go so far, you might not find your way back?"_

Draco's words burn in her ears as she crawled away from Greyback, tears blurring her vision. He tackled her from behind, his breath hot on her neck. She twists, kicks, tries to buck him off, but he's too strong. Large hands encircle her neck. His eyes are crazed. She can't breathe.

"Accio wands!" she choked out, feeling the comfort of them in their hands seconds later. She shouts the first thing she could think of.

"Crucio!"

Greyback falls to the floor, shouting in agony. Scrambling to her feet, Hermione watched in fascination as the werewolf writhed in pain. She wants this violence. She craves it. She wants him to feel pain, to feel torment. She wants him to hurt.

The spell ends. He gasps; his eyes murderous as he glares at her.

Again. She wants more.

"Crucio!"

He screams again. Hermione smiles wickedly. Months of anger, of agony - she directs all of it at Greyback. Not giving him a chance to catch his breath, she casts the spell again. She's not aware of the storm thunder in the sky, the lightning flashing. All she cares about is hurting Greyback. He needs to feel pain.

_Hermione._

She stumbled, breaking focus.

_Hermione, stop._

No! She can't stop! He deserves this! He deserves more.

_Hermione, it's over._

It isn't. They thought that before and he came back. He's always come back. He wants to destroy them. He won't stop until he does. Narrowing her eyes, Hermione raised the wands again. She would stop him. She knows the spell to make him stop. Two little words and it will be over.

_Hermione, no. _

The tears start falling.

_You are not a killer._

Brushing them away angrily, she raises the wands again.

_Sweetheart, please_.

Remus' gentle voice breaks her. Sobbing, she lets go. She lets go of the anger, of the hurt, of the fear. All that's left is her.

The storm outside ends as quickly as it begins.

"I knew it," Greyback gasps. "I knew you couldn't do it."

"Stupify!"

Red light shoots from both wands, hitting Greyback square in the chest. He's sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Muttering a binding spell, Hermione looked down on him. She could kill him. She could kill him now.

It scares her how much she wants to.

Reaching down, she grabs the chain from Greyback, ripping it from his neck. Throwing the vial to the ground, she crushes it with her feet.

"Expecto Patronum."

The otter appears, then the wolf. Addressing them both, Hermione tells them to go to Harry.

"I need Harry and Ron. I need more aurors. I need healers. I need Sirius. Go!"

Gasping, one arm around her waist, Hermione looked around the sparse room frantically. Remus was here. Where was he? Shaking her head to ward off the dizziness that threatened to crippled her, she pushed open one door and finds a bedroom. Limping to the kitchen, she narrows her eyes on a metal door in the corner.

"Alohomora!"

She hobbled down the narrow staircase. She could feel the pain of her wounds now that the adrenaline rush was over. Blood trickles from her body to the floor.

"Remus!" she yells. At least, she thinks she yelled. It comes out as a hoarse whisper instead.

"Hermione?" His response is faint, but it's him. Sniffling, she forces her feet to keep moving. She reaches the locked cage at the far end of the cellar, the stench making her want to vomit. Raising both wands, she barely has the energy for one more spell.

"Alohomora."

The cage swings open. Slumping to the ground, Hermione locks eyes with Remus before everything goes black.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N – I hope this next chapter answers some of the questions raised in the last one. I'm so happy they are together again, too! **

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>"You can't separate them!"<p>

"Calm down, Mr. Black."

"Do **not** put them in separate rooms."

"Sir, you need to -"

"Listen to me! You want them to survive? Don't separate them! Please."

Sirius sounded so scared. She'd never heard him be scared before. Angry? A lot. Frustrasted? Often. Worried? Sometimes.

But never scared.

She couldn't hear Remus. Where was he? Was he OK? Was he alive? Remus!

"Hermione, love, Remus is going to be fine. Do you hear me? He's going to be fine."

He's going to be fine. He got out. She got him out.

"You're going to be OK. Do you hear me? You. Will. Be. OK."

She wished he would stop talking and leave her alone. Her head hurt. Her body hurt. Breathing hurt. She wanted to sleep. She liked the dark. The dark was peaceful, quiet. She wanted to go back there.

* * *

><p>"Hermione? Hermione, can you hear me?"<p>

"We're supposed to let her rest."

"I know that, Ginny."

"Then stop asking her to wake up!"

"I'm not asking her to wake up; I'm asking if she can hear me!"

"How is that different?"

"You guys, come on. She needs to sleep. They both do."

They studied the man in the other bed. He's was as white as the sheet that covered him. He'd lost so much weight that they could see his ribs through the blanket. There was barely an inch of his body not covered in bandages. No one said anything, but they all knew the healers were worried about the full moon and the impact it could have on his healing process.

Hermione was pale, too, except her face. It was a maze of bruises, pale yellowish-brown bruises. Greyback's fingerprints were still visible on her neck. Bandages covered the gashes he made in her stomach and back.

"Will they wake up?"

"The healers think so. Their bodies … Remus was close to death. Hermione lost a lot of blood."

"Rest will help."

* * *

><p><em>"They're talking about us," she said.<em>

_He smiled and hugged her. She was sitting in his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, her head resting on his chest. He had his arms wrapped around her, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to be closer. Nuzzling her neck, he kissed his mark, his tongue tracing the outline, smiling when she shivered. _

_"Are we dying, Remus?"_

_He pulled back slightly so he could look at her. She didn't look scared, mostly curious._

_"I don't know. I hope not."_

_She nodded. "I don't want to leave Sirius alone."_

_"He wouldn't like that."_

_"We'd never hear the end of it!"_

_He chuckled and kissed her._ _"I missed you," he whispered against her lips. "I missed you so much."_

_"I missed you, too. Remus, please never leave me again. Promise."_

_"I will if you promise never to risk your life like that again."_

_She pulled back. "And what would you suggest I'd have done instead? Wait for you to come home? If you recall, I waited nearly seven months for you to do just that."_

_He smiled._

_"Don't smile at me, Remus Lupin! You knew exactly what you were doing when you left your wand behind."_

_"I hoped you'd figure that out."_

_She hit him in the shoulder._

_"Ow!"_

_"That was a stupid thing to do, going after Greyback without magic."_

_"And how do you think you would have defeated him if I hadn't given you my wand?"_

_"Are you saying I couldn't do it on my own?"_

_"Sweetheart, you did do it on your own."_

_"No, I didn't," she said, running a hand through his hair, a gentle smile on her face. "I had you."_

_He kissed her again. "That's how it's supposed to be."_

* * *

><p>"How are they?"<p>

Sirius looked at Harry. He was sitting in a chair between the two beds, one hand on Remus' arm, his other on Hermione's.

"No change," he said dully.

Harry moved over to the chair on Hermione's other side, taking her hand in both of his.

"That doesn't mean bad news, Sirius."

"It's been days, Harry."

"He was gone months, locked in a cage, barely any food and water. He needs to rest."

"And her?"

Harry looked at his best friend. He loved her so much, even when he wanted to strangle her, which, if he was honest with himself, was most of the time. She was too smart for her own good. Too damn stubborn.

"She's drained. She used all of her magic – and Remus'. She needs to rest."

"I hate this," Sirius mumbled.

"I do, too."

* * *

><p><em>"How did you find us?"<em>

_Hermione looked down. Remus was lying on his back, his head in her lap. His eyes were closed, but she knew he was listening. She continued to massage his temples, smiling when he'd moan in pleasure. She told him earlier it sounded like he was purring and he had pounced, tickling her until she was breathless. _

_"I could feel his anger," she said. "Not all the time, but there'd be moments of pure hatred and I knew it was him. I focused on that feeling when I apparated. It brought me to the forest."_

_"But how did you know he'd be angry?"_

_"I may have asked Rita Skeeter to plant something in her column. I figured he was keeping tabs on the search somehow and The Daily Prophet seemed like the best source of information."_

_Remus laughed, picturing his witch asking Rita for a favor. "Oh, how you must have hated asking for her help."_

_Hermione flushed, remembering the promise she'd made._

_"Well … she didn't do it out of the goodness of her heart."_

_"Of course not," he replied._

_"I promised her an interview."_

_"Oh? Well, you'll be fine, I'm sure."_

_"An interview with both of us."_

_He opened his eyes. "What?"_

_"An all-access interview."_

_"You should have let me die."_

_She smacked him on top of his head._

_"Ow! Do you realize you have hit me more in the past – well, however long we've been here – then the entire time you've known me? Are you sure all that dark magic is out of you?"_

_"Do NOT joke about dying!"_

_"Fine, fine. I'm sorry."_

_They were quiet for a moment. _

_"What does 'all-access' mean, exactly?"_

_"If she asks about our sex life, we answer it."_

_"Shit."_

* * *

><p>"The full moon is two days away. Should we move them?" the healer asked.<p>

"'Them?' Don't you mean him?"

"She was cut by a werewolf."

"Cut; not bitten."

"He was in human form. She's not affected."

"Bill, don't -"

"No! I know what I'm talking about; the same thing happened to me."

"Fine, but Mr. Lupin is a werewolf …"

"And Hermione Granger is his mate. He won't hurt her."

"Mr. Black, I know you care about your friends, but -"

"I've seen it, OK? The wolf knows who she is. He won't hurt her. You've injected the Wolfsbane, right?"

The healer nodded.

"OK. Then it will be fine. Ward the doors, but they will be fine."

"Mr. Black."

"Trust me."

* * *

><p><em>"Are you OK?"<em>

_"Full moon," he gasped._

_"Will you transform here?" She looked around, still not sure where here was. It was white. It was quiet. They didn't seem to need or want anything here. She supposed she should look around, see if there was a way to leave, but she didn't want to. It didn't hurt here. Remus was here. Why shouldn't they stay?_

_"I don't think so," he said through gritted teeth._

_She watched as his body tensed for several minutes. He breathed heavily. His eyes were squeezed shut. When he opened them, they were amber, but everything else was Remus._

_"I guess not," she said._

_He shrugged. _

_"Now what?"_

_"That means it's the full moon," he said._

_"I know that, Remus. But what do we do now?"_

_He sprawled on his back, tugging her arm until she was lying next to him, her head on his chest._

_"We wait."_

* * *

><p>"What the – hello! Someone! We need a healer in here!"<p>

Sirius jumped from his chair in the hallway, rushing to Remus' and Hermione's room, Molly Weasley on his heels. Expecting the worse, his body sagged with relief when he got to the doorway.

"What is it?" Molly asked, trying to look over Sirius' shoulder.

He moved aside so she could see the image of man and woman, curled together, in one bed.

"How did they ..."

"I'm guessing Moony was tired of being separated from his mate," Sirius said, walking in the room to draw the blankets over both figures. "Good for him."

Molly shook her head, but she had tears in her eyes.

* * *

><p><em>"Can you do it now?"<em>

_She closed her eyes, concentrated, and took a deep breath. Nothing happened_

_"No," she sighed. "Did I lose it? When I did the curse, did I lose my magic?"_

_"No," he said, framing his face with her hands. "It's rebuilding. It's like blood. You lose some and, eventually, your body regenerates what you need."_

_"You can feel your magic returning?"_

_He nodded._

_"What's it like?"_

_His face was thoughtful. "It's like … it's like sinking into a warm tub after a cold day. It's soothing, comforting. Everything feels right."_

_She nodded, but he could see the worry in her eyes._

_"It will come back, sweetheart. You didn't lose it."_

_"What if I'm being punished?"_

_"You stopped yourself before you went too far."_

_"No. You stopped me. I heard you."_

_He looked surprise. "You heard me?"_

_She nodded. "Your voice. You told me to stop, that I wasn't a killer."_

_He brushed a hand through her curls, tucking them behind her ear. "I was right, wasn't I?"_

* * *

><p>" … we're pleased with their progress. It's amazing, really."<p>

"So why haven't they woken up?"

"Mr. Black, I understand your concerns, but believe me when I say rest is what they need. From what I understand, Miss Granger isn't the easiest person to control -"

Several people scoffed, making the healer smile.

"If that's true, the longer she's unconscious, the better it is for her health."

"And Remus?"

"Mr. Lupin's body is rundown. He has a lot of work ahead of him to get his strength back, so it's best he rests now."

* * *

><p><em>"I'm afraid," she whispered.<em>

_"Of what?"_

_"Of what happens next."_

_He looked over. She was staring at the ceiling above her, chewing on her bottom lip. Rolling to his stomach, he leaned over to kiss her._

_"You'll be fine, sweetheart; I promise."_

_"What if I have to go to -_"

_"You are NOT going to Azkaban!"_

_"I did an unforgivable curse -_"

_"On someone who was going to kill you! It was self-defense, Hermione."_

_She nodded, but she still looked worried._

_"Did you know?" she asked._

_"Know what?"_

_"That he thought you were his."_

_He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. _

_"I always knew he hated me. I thought that's what it was: hate. I never considered it was jealousy until …_"

_"Until?"_

_"Until he caught me. I thought he wanted you, was obsessed with you, but he wanted you out of the way. He didn't understand. Losing you … that would have killed me. He'd rather I was dead than with you."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_He shrugged again. "It's over now. He's either dead or in Azkaban. We'll find out when we go home."_

_She sat up. "We have to go back, don't we?"_

_He sat up, too. "We can't stay here forever."_

_"It's going to be loud."_

_He nodded._

_"We're going to hurt."_

_He nodded._

_"We have to do that interview."_

_He flinched._ _"Maybe we'll stay a bit longer."_

* * *

><p>She snuck down the hall, her heels not making a sound thanks to a clever little clothing spell.<p>

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" her photographer whispered.

"They woke up today," she replied. "I was promised an exclusive and I'm going to get it."

They arrived at their door. The sign requested no visitors, but that didn't stop her from pushing open the door.

Two bodies lay on the bed, which had been enlarged to allow room for both. The man was on his back, one arm wrapped around the woman's waist, the other tangled in her hair. She lay next to him, one arm tucked between their bodies, head on his chest, her hand resting over his heart.

"Are you going to wake them?"

Rita stared at the couple. They looked like hell. Both bodies were bruised, bandaged, and yet the looks on their faces as they slept … it was more than peaceful.

They were happy.

"Rita?"

"Hmm? No. No, let them sleep. I know Hermione Granger. She won't renege on our deal."

The photographer nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait," she hissed, grabbing the sleeve of his robe. "Take a few pictures first."


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N - I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>"I'm going to kill her," she muttered, quill flying as she composed a letter to Rita Skeeter regarding the photograph on the front page – <em>the front page!<em> – of that day's _Daily Prophet. _

"You knew what you were getting into when you asked her for help," Remus reminded her, hiding his grin when she turned her murderous hazel eyes in his direction. He wasn't thrilled with the photo, but he was grateful for the distraction it gave Hermione. Since waking up three days ago, she had been anxious. She put on a happy face for their numerous visitors and answered the healers' questions, but when it was just the two of them, she'd sink into herself, forming some sort of protective shell. Her magic was not yet restored and as much as he tried to reassure her that the temporary loss was just that – temporary – he knew she didn't believe him.

"Why aren't you more upset about this? What happened to the man who considered Harry a threat?"

He shrugged. It could be the effect of the three chocolate chip muffins he'd polished off, courtesy of Molly Weasley - the matriarch took the healer's order to gain weight seriously and he was grateful, as she saw no wrong in indulging his love for chocolate – or it could be that after months apart, he was so happy to have Hermione by his side, everything else was inconsequential.

The door opened and a woman walked in, frowning slightly as the crumbs that covered the bed.

"Mr. Lupin, I'm here to take you to your afternoon physical therapy session."

Sighing, Remus swung his legs out of bed. Physical therapy was torture. It felt as if his body had forgotten how to do the most basic of functions, like stand for more than five minutes at a time or hold a book without taxing his arms. Potions healed some of the damage more than three months of captivity caused, but magic couldn't fix everything.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Hermione asked. She asked every time, but he always shook his head no. Call it vanity, but he did not want her to see him like that.

Alone for the moment, Hermione turned back to her letter. She wasn't going to back down on the interview. She had promised and she kept her promises, but thanks to Rita's little stunt, there were going to be a few rules.

"You look murderous."

Her head jerked up as Sirius strode into the room, plopping down on the chair next to the bed. Holding the paper up in response, she took in his nod before going back to her letter.

"You know, you don't have to talk to her."

"Yes, we do. I promised," she replied, silently reading what she wrote.

"You promise a lot of things, Hermione," he said in a cold voice.

She looked up again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I don't know," he replied, leaning forward in the chair. "How about promising me you weren't going to leave and then drugging me so you could take off in the middle of the night? How about leaving _a fucking note_ that said 'Hey, sorry, but I've got to do this?'"

"My note did not say -"

"That's not the point!" he said in a fiercely controlled voice. "_I_ promised to take care of you!"

She swallowed her guilt. "Remus was missing! He was dying! I had to do something!"

Screw control.

"And I couldn't help?" he roared, pushing out of the chair, not noticing when it crashed to the ground. "I've only known the guy since we were 11!"

"He's not your mate!" she shouted.

"He wouldn't be yours if I hadn't pushed the matter!"

Her look was incredulous. "You're going to claim responsibility for that?"

"You didn't have a clue and he was so wrapped up in moral judgment -"

"Stop yelling at her!"

The pair turned to look at Harry standing in the door. He stormed inside, his face red with anger. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he shouted at his godfather.

"Come off it, Harry; you're just as mad as I am!"

He was. He was furious. When he heard Sirius shout and ran up to read her letter … He had never been so mad in his entire life and he oped he never would be again. "I'm not going to scream at her when she's in the hospital!"

"So you say nothing? She gets away with taking off with no regard to anyone -"

"This is not the time!"

"Stop yelling!" Hermione shrieked.

"No!" Sirius shouted. "I've gone through hell these past few weeks and I want to yell!"

"Then go yell somewhere else!" Hermione shouted back just as loud.

"I want to yell at you!"

"Why?"

"Because I love you and you scared the shit out of me and if I don't yell, I'm going to fucking lose it, OK?!"

That did it. She burst out crying. Throwing herself at Sirius, she sobbed, saying something that sounded like "I'm sorry," but it was hard to tell through all the tears. The older wizard pulled her into his arms, murmuring words Harry couldn't understand. After a few minutes, both grabbed him and pulled him into their emotional cocoon, Hermione practically strangling him with her fierce hug and Sirius gripping his shoulder so tight, he knew there would be bruises, but he didn't care.

* * *

><p>"Your hair looks different," Sirius remarked.<p>

Hermione looked up from her book. Remus and Sirius were playing wizard's chess; the two of them perched on the bed while she was curled in one of the room's chairs. Harry was slouched in the other chair. Technically, visiting hours were over, but the staff at St. Mungo's was familiar with Sirius' casual disregard for rules. It was easier to let him do what he wanted since he was going to, anyway.

Running her fingers self-consciously through her curls, Hermione nodded.

"Why?"

Remus studied Hermione, wondering if she'd tell the truth. He'd heard the screaming match earlier – you'd have to be deaf or dead not to, and even then it was questionable – but when he got back to the room, all three were sitting around like nothing had happened. The healers were concerned until Remus assured them it was normal.

"Um … my hair kind of caught fire."

"WHAT?" Harry yelled.

Not looking up, Hermione turned the page in her book. "Yes. When I did the curse, the power singed my hair and some of it burned off."

She risked a glance at Harry. His eyes were wide, his mouth open in shock.

"Holy shit," Sirius said. "Your girl is a badass, Moony."

"You might want to remember that the next time you yell at her," he replied.

* * *

><p>Two more days passed before the visit Hermione both longed for and feared happened.<p>

"Hermione," Kingsley said in greeting, sitting in the chair vacated by Sirius minutes before.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wished Remus was there, but he was at therapy. Did he wait for her to be alone? Were the aurors waiting in the hallway?

"You aren't going to Azkaban."

She looked at him, wide-eyed. "I'm not?"

"No. Your life was in danger. Your mate's life was in danger. You protected yourself and saved Remus. That's the end of the matter as far as the Ministry is concerned."

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"I want to apologize for sending Remus on his mission," Kingsley said, sitting tall in the chair. He wasn't speaking to her as a friend, as someone he fought with during the war, but as a politician. "I will maintain that it was important to eradicate the law, but I should have been upfront with you about Greyback's unknown whereabouts beforehand."

"He still would have gone."

"Probably; he's a stubborn man."

"A stubborn man who always wants to do the right thing," she muttered.

Kingsley' eyes twinkled. "Remind you of anyone?"

She didn't respond, but smiled slightly.

"I came to tell you something else. Greyback is dead."

She gasped. "Did I … is it my fault?"

He shook his head. "No. He was transported to Azkaban and was found dead in his cell this morning. The report said he died of natural causes."

"But -"

"That's the official report, Hermione," he said in a cool voice. "Accept it. Accept it and move on."

She stared at him. She knew what he was saying, or wasn't saying, to be more accurate. He died from injuries sustained during his torture, but no one was going to investigate further. This was her out, her chance to let go of the guilt and begin healing; really begin healing. Swallowing her tears, she nodded, not breaking eye contact. Satisfied, Kingsley got up to leave. Hermione watched him walk toward the door.

"Kingsley?"

He turned. "Yes?"

She took a deep breath. She wanted to get better. It was not only time to let go of her guilt, but also her anger.

"My birthday is in a couple days. Remus and I won't be released yet, so we're having a small celebration here … well, as small as expected with the entire Weasley family present. I'd love for you to stop by … if you want to. I doubt the healers will complain too much if you're present."

"You overestimate my power, Hermione," he replied with a smile, some of the stiffness leaving his body. "Thank you. I'd be happy to attend."

* * *

><p>Hermione snuggled closer to Remus, the feeling of his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back nearly putting her to sleep.<p>

"Are you ever going to tell me about your tattoo?"

She sat up and smiled. "I wondered if you saw it."

"I'd have seen it sooner if the healers would stop the ridiculous charade of examining you behind a curtain," he responded.

He had studied her scars himself, schooling his expression as he stared at the welts in her stomach and back. In deference to the people streaming in and out of their room, he had kept her shirt on during his examination, which explains why his first glimpse of the design on her left shoulder didn't happen until this morning. Had Arthur and Molly Weasley not been in the room at that time, he would have asked her about it then.

"It's your birthday present," she told him.

Whatever he expected her to say, it wasn't that. "Excuse me?"

"We got tattoos on your birthday, in honor of you."

"'We?'"

"Sirius, Harry, Ron and I," she sat up. "Ron got a Jack Russell Terrier because that's his Patronus and you are the reason Harry was able to teach him how to make one."

He smiled, incredibly touched.

"And both Harry and Sirius got the full moon, but Sirius' is on his collarbone and Harry got his on his shoulder."

"What did you get?"

Turning, she lifted her shirt so he could see the moonflower on her left shoulder. She shivered as he traced it with his fingertip.

"My flower."

"Of course. I'm yours."

Leaning forward, he kissed it lightly.

"That is one of the ... I don't know what to say," he replied, tugging Hermione's shirt in place and turning her around so he could pull her back into his arms. "Thank you."

She lay in his arms for a minute, breathing in the scent of him. "You realize you have no excuse not to get one of your own, right?"

He chuckled softly. "I give Sirius two days before he drags me to some tattoo parlor after we finally get released."

"We're in a hospital; not prison."

Kissing her neck, he sighed in frustration, wanting to do more, but knowing he couldn't. Neither of them had mentioned sex to their healer, but since she stressed that their bodies were not yet strong enough for physical intimacy after every examination, they got the idea.

"I respectfully disagree."


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N - Warning - there's a bit of a physical moment ahead, so if you are under age 18, stop reading. If you are under age 18, you should have stopped reading this story a long time ago. **

**I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>Hermione walked into their hospital room with a smile on her face and a bounce in her step. Literally. Remus watched as she picked up a few books scattered around the room, bobbing on the heels of her feet the entire time. "What?"<p>

She turned and grinned, her entire face lighting up with joy. "You are looking at a healed woman."

He pushed himself up to a sitting position. "Really?"

"I just got a clean bill of health. There's no internal damage and, as proved during the last full moon, the cuts have no negative side effects on my body. I'll always have scars, but I think scars are sexy, so ..."

He laughed when she jumped on the bed to give him an enthusiastic kiss. "Did she tell you when you get to go home?"

Hermione sat back. "That's the thing. I'm fine and could go home tomorrow, but you, my love, need to stay longer. We agreed it would be better for you if I stayed with you."

"Meaning you told her you're staying until I get to leave."

She leaned forward to kiss him again. "Maybe," she murmured against his lips.

Tangling his hands in her hair, he made sure she couldn't move away. "Thank you."

Climbing on top of him so her legs were on either side of his waist, his hard length pressed against her center, she ran her hands under his T-shirt as she leaned down to nibble on his ear.

"If you really want to thank me …" she whispered suggestively, pressing her body into his.

He groaned. "You're killing me, sweetheart. I haven't gotten a clean bill of health."

She pulled back slightly and eyed him with a wicked grin. "I guess that means you'll just have to lay there and take it then."

He moaned as she kissed him again, her tongue tracing the outline of his lips before diving in. She sighed as he slowly slid his hands down the side of her body to grasp her hips, lifting his own hips as she pressed down. "Remember our first time?" she whispered, her forehead pressed against his as she stared into his eyes. "How you held me like this and showed me how to ride you until I came?"

He couldn't answer. Her scent, her words. It was too much. Tightening his grip, he started moving faster, harder.

"We can do that, right? Please? I ache for you so much. I can't wait until I feel you slide inside me, your hard length moving in and out. I'm so wet, so ready …"

"Hermione … baby, please ..."

"Don't stop," she begged, placing her hands over his as she sat up. Dragging his hands up to her breasts, she leaned back on a sigh, grinding her hips into his as his fingers plucked her nipples. "Oh God, I missed you. I missed this. Don't stop. I'm almost there."

He was, too. It was ridiculous. He was a grown man and here he was, fully clothed, moving against Hermione like some horny teenager. Then again, he hadn't been this hard or this horny since he was a teenager. It had been so long, too long. She felt so good.

They stopped talking, their bodies moving together in a dance neither ever forgot. He watched her, her face flushed as she moved on top of him, her eyes closed, mouth slightly open as her breathing picked up. She was close.

"Look at me," he demanded.

Heavy eyes lifted. She smiled slowly and leaned forward. Pressing her lips to his, she moaned into his mouth as she came, her body going lax on top of his. Seconds later, he followed, sinking boneless into the hospital bed. He stroked her back, his hands slowly moving up and down the cotton of her T-shirt as both waited for the heart rates to return to normal.

"I should be mortified," he said, his voice muffled by her hair.

He could feel her lips turn up in a smile. "But you're not?"

"I feel too good at the moment."

She giggled, said a quick cleaning spell, and snuggled closer. She felt amazing. She had no idea how much she needed that.

"Hey," he whispered. "You just did magic."

She pulled back a bit, eyes wide. "I did. I didn't even think about it."

He smiled. "Feel better?"

"Tons."

"Me, too."

* * *

><p>An hour later, he was feeling even better, thanks to the flask of firewhiskey Sirius had snuck in as his contribution to Hermione's birthday gathering. Avoiding Hermione's watchful gaze - and Molly's - Remus and Sirius drank a quick toast to their health in the corner of the room while Bill and George stood guard.<p>

"I can't remember the last time I had to sneak a drink," Remus said, passing the flask to his friend.

"It seems like today is the day you recapture your youth," Sirius smirked, taking another drink.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Remus' eyes narrowed as he studied his friend. "I know that look. That look doesn't mean 'nothing.' That look means something."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Moony."

"Spill it."

Sirius barked out a laugh. Grabbing his friend by the arm, Remus marched him into the hallway.

"What do you know?"

"I know nothing."

"What did you see?"

He winked. "A lot."

Remus groaned. Leaning against the wall, he buried his face in his hands as his friend laughed.

"How long were you there?"

"I caught the tail end of the performance. Very impressive, sir," he held the flask up in a toast.

"Fuck," Remus groaned. "Please tell me you were the only one who saw us."

"I was the only one that saw you," Sirius repeated obediently.

He studied Sirius' face. "Now tell me that's the truth."

"It's the truth. I swear."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Remus calculated how much dirt he had on Sirius and what he was willing to let go of to maintain his silence.

"Don't worry; I'm not going to say anything."

"I want to believe you, but I don't."

Clapping one hand on Remus' shoulder, Sirius held up his other. "I solemnly swear that this story will remain in the vault. Forever. I'm giving you a free pass because of the whole taken-hostage-and-almost-dying thing."

Remus laughed. "Well, if that's all it takes ..."

Accepting the flask, he looked up and down the hall before taking one more drink. Handing it back, he studied his friend. He looked better. His screaming match with Hermione was what he needed. His eyes no longer had that haunted look. "Thanks for looking after her, Padfoot."

He scoffed. "You mean the witch who took off in the middle of the night? The one who nearly got herself killed fighting a monster? Yeah, I did a great job."

Remus grinned. "I never said it was going to be easy. This is Hermione we're talking about."

"She would have given Lily a run for her money, wouldn't she?"

Remus pictured the redhead and nodded. Yes, she would. Swallowing the lump in his throat he got every time he thought about James and Lily, he grabbed his friend in a tight hug, thumping him on the back a few times. He still had Sirius. Thank Merlin for that.

"Really," he said, his voice husky. "I owe you. You know that, right?"

Sirius grinned. "I was hoping you would say that." Digging into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a small box. "I've been holding on to this for you. I even took it to Wizengamot for the vote, you know, just in case you did the dramatic entrance thing ..." he trailed off and shrugged, avoiding his friend's gaze.

"I'm OK, Padfoot," Remus said quietly. "Hermione's OK. I'm getting stronger. We're fine."

Sirius handed the box to Remus. "So go in there and make it better."

* * *

><p>"You look happy."<p>

Hermione looked at Ginny. "I am happy."

"No, not happy happy, but _happy _happy," she said suggestively.

Hermione blushed.

"I knew it!" she yelled triumphantly, not caring that nearly eveyr adult in the room turned around to stare at them. Hermione did, though. Grabbing her friend by one arm and Rebecca by the other, Hermione dragged both into the bathroom. Shutting the door, she put up a silencing charm for good measure.

"You totally shagged Remus!"

Rebecca looked confused. "Why is that a big deal?" she asked. "They're a couple, right?"

"But they're in a hospital! I'm pretty sure shagging in a hospital is against the rules!" Laughing, Ginny pulled Hermione in for a hug. "I am so happy! The two biggest rule followers I know got down and dirty in a hospital. This is amazing!"

Shaking her head in exasperation, Hermione pulled away with a laugh. "We did not get 'down and dirty.'"

"Fine," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "You made love."

"Oh, God!" Hermione laughed. "That sounds even worse! Never, ever say that to me again!"

"So, what happened?" Rebecca asked.

Hermione grinned at her friends. "Can I first say how happy I am to have another girl in our group?"

Ginny nodded. "Hear, hear!"

Rebecca blushed.

"To answer your question, Rebecca, Remus and I ... we _connected_."

Now Ginny looked confused. "What the hell does that mean?"

Hermione blushed. "It means that before everyone got here, I ... well, I kind of jumped him."

"This is amazing," Ginny said to Rebecca. "She never tells stories. Keep going, Hermione."

"That's it, really. I had my final checkup and the healer said I can go home tomorrow. I told her I'm staying until Remus leaves, and when I told him that, he kissed me to say thank you -"

"He is so sweet," Rebecca interrupted.

" - and then I told him if he really wanted to thank me ..." she trailed off.

"No!" Ginny cried. "You can't stop now! Did you do a strip tease? Did you rip off his clothes?"

Hermione shook her head. "Don't laugh, but we didn't get naked at all."

"Huh?" Ginny asked.

"Um, I climbed on top of him and we ... we just kind of moved together until we both ..." she stopped talking, staring pointedly at her friends. Ginny stared back, her brows furrowed at she tried to figure out what she was saying. When she got it, she started giggling.

"That's perfect," she said. "I don't know why, but it is."

"Well, technically, Remus is still kind of weak, so sex isn't really something he's supposed to do, but ..."

"Judging by the grin on your face, I'm willing to bet he's not that weak," Rebecca told her before clasping her hand over her mouth. "Oh God, I can't believe I just said that. I'm so sorry!"

Hermione laughed. "Don't be sorry! It's totally true. I don't know ... Usually he's the dominant one in our relationship, werewolf and everything. It was kind of nice to be the one in control."

"Hear, hear!" Ginny yelled.

* * *

><p>Exiting the bathroom, Hermione chose to ignore the smirks Fred and George sent her way, walking over to Arthur and Molly Weasley instead, wrapping her arms around the former for a hug.<p>

"How's my girl?" he asked, kissing thee top of her head.

"I'm getting better every day."

Squeezing tight, he nodded, not trusting himself to say more. Turning towards Molly, Hermione grinned as the woman studied her with a critical eye.

"You're still too thin."

"Molly," Arthur started.

"She is! Come on, Hermione. Sit here and I'll get you a plate."

Following Molly, she took a seat on one of the chairs. Second later, a plate piled with food was in her lap. Knowing Molly would hover until she started eating, Hermione picked up a sandwich and took a large bite.

"Good girl," Molly said, kissing the top of Hermione's head. "Now, here comes Remus. I'm going to get him a plate, too."

Shaking her head, Hermione grinned at Remus as he sat next to her, snatching a couple of strawberries off her plate and popping them in his mouth.

"Fair warning - Molly is fixing you a plate, too."

"I'd expect nothing less," he replied, smiling his thanks at Molly as she handed him his food.

"Both of you need to stop socializing and eat," she told them, trying her best to look stern before her emotions got the best of her.

"Come on, Mum, no crying," Fred said, wrapping an arm around his mother.

"You don't want to bring the party down," George added.

"I know, I know," she sniffed. "It's just ... I'm so happy!"

Rolling their eyes, the twins led their mother away.

"How are you?" Remus asked Hermione.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," she replied. "Are you OK? Do you need to lay down?"

He shook his head, setting his plate on the floor.

"You didn't finish your food," Hermione told him. "Molly is going to lecture you."

"I think she'll let it slide this time."

"Why?"

Reaching into his pocket, Remus pulled out a small black box. "Because of this."

Hermione watched, wide-eyed, as Remus dropped to one knee in front of her. Ignoring the excited gasps from several people in the room, he took her plate out of her lap and set it on the floor.

"I wanted to do this so many times," he told her, opening up the box and taking out the small diamond set in a platinum band. "I bought this ring on your 17th birthday. I didn't even know then if I'd ever have the courage to give it to you. Instead, I carried it with me everywhere. It became a symbol; a reminder of why we were fighting Voldemort, of why I had to let you go with Harry and Ron even though it scared me to death. There were times I believed it would be just that - a symbol - because I couldn't convince myself that someone as wonderful and amazing as you would love someone like me.

"When you accepted me, all of me, and accepted our bond ... I wanted to propose to you then. I know there are people in this room that wanted me to, too," he said, grinning when he heard a few chuckles. "But I wanted our engagement to be public, to be celebrated; not something we had to hide because of some archaic law. I never wanted you to feel ashamed of what we had, so I waited."

Clearing his throat, Remus picked up Hermione's left hand in his right and kissed the inside of her wrist. "My plan was to propose to you the moment the law was eradicated, but ..." he trailed off, trying to smile as Hermione stared at him, one tear sliding down her cheek. "I never thought I'd propose to you on a cold floor in a hospital, Hermione, but there were moments I was afraid I'd never get the chance to propose to you at all. You deserve so much more than this. You deserve a grand, romantic gesture, but I'm too selfish to wait any more.

"Hermione Granger, I love you more than anything. All that I am, all that I ever will be, is yours. Will you please marry me?"

She dropped to her knees, framed his face with her hands and kissed him, throwing herself into it, not caring who was watching, even when Ron and the twins started cheering.

"Yes," she said between kisses. "Yes, yes, yes."


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N – This was a fun chapter to write. Who's ready for a wedding?**

**I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p><em>Soul mates.<em>

_It's a beautiful phrase, but that's usually all it is: a phrase. It's a fairy tale parents tell their children at night, a story they repeat when their teens' hearts are broken for the first time. "Somewhere," they say, "there is someone out there made for you; someone who completes you. When you find them, you'll know."_

_For werewolves, though, it isn't a tale. _

_"The concept of a mate, the one person in the entire world who is yours in every sense of the word, is not only part of our culture, it's universally acknowledged," said Remus Lupin, who is a werewolf._

_However, that doesn't mean the task of finding one's mate is easy. Most werewolves are solitary creatures, meaning their tendency to live alone, to avoid people, makes it difficult to find the person that completes them. _

_"Unfortunately, most werewolves live their entire lives without their mate," Lupin said. "They might have relationships, but they won't fall in love. That is an emotion reserved only for their mate."_

_Lupin knows what he is talking about. When he was 32, he found his mate. Unfortunately, she was one of his students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – Hermione Granger._

_"I was bitten when I was four, so by that time in my life, I was resigned to being alone," Lupin said. "I never expected to recognize my mate's scent on the Hogwarts Express."_

_But he did. When he realized it belonged to a 13-year-old student, though, Lupin said his first reaction was to panic; a reaction Granger said he still had after she was of age._

_"I don't think I can stress enough how much Remus did NOT treat me as his intended during his time at Hogwarts and our interactions in all the years after," she said. "I was the one with the crush. He was the one who went out of his way to avoid me."_

"You make me sound like I ran away every time I saw you," Remus groaned.

Sirius looked up from his copy of _The Daily Prophet _with a smirk. "I seem to recall a time when all of your missions with the Order would take place while Hermione was on a school break. That's odd. Isn't that odd, Harry?"

"Very odd, Sirius."

Hermione rolled her eyes and kept reading.

_Lupin, now 40, blushed _– "I did not!" Remus yelled – _after Granger, 20, shared this tidbit with me during lunch Wednesday. The couple had been discharged from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries two days earlier after nearly a month of care and rehabilitation._

_Their hospital stay ends a dark chapter in their lives. Lupin, who works for the Ministry of Magic's Care of Magical Creatures division, left on a mission for Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt in February. Shacklebolt wanted Lupin to reach out to England's werewolf population to assist in his goal to eradicate anti-werewolf legislation. Granger, who was not allowed to accompany Lupin on his mission for fear that her status as his mate would put her in danger _– "That makes it sound like I asked for your permission and you said no," Hermione grumbled –_ spent their time apart developing a way to mass-produce the Wolfsbane potion, which allows those infected with lycanthropy to maintain their sense of self during the full moon._

_Granger also created a way for werewolves to receive the potion by annual injection, giving the population peace of mind for an entire year._

_"She's a brilliant witch," said Horace Slughorn, longtime Potions master at Hogwarts "Anyone who has met Miss Granger is aware of her intelligence."_

"Of course he would agree to an interview," Hermione sniffed.

_In April, though, Granger was stricken to learn that Lupin was missing, believed to have been taken hostage by Fenrir Greyback, the same werewolf who attacked Lupin when he was four. Greyback was a supporter of You-Know-Who and was believed by the Ministry to be dead following the final battle at Hogwarts._

_The Ministry was wrong._

"You can say that again," Hermione muttered.

_Lupin had been traveling with Bill Weasley, who also was attacked by Greyback. However, Weasley was only scratched, not bitten. He isn't a werewolf and has no desire to attack and kill people during the full moon. When contacted for comment, Weasley informed this columnist to leave his premises immediately before he had the urge to test that theory._

"I love Bill," Hermione said.

_Those redheads do have a temper, don't they?_

"Has she met Molly?" Sirius asked.

_The Auror Department launched a search for Lupin, with the Boy-Who-Live himself, Harry Potter, leading the charge. Potter is one of Granger's best friends (though the two were once a couple) _– "We were never a couple!" Hermione and Harry yelled –_ and is the son of James and Lily Potter, who attended Hogwarts with Lupin. Potter also is the godson of Sirius Black, who is Lupin's best friend, and was best friends with James and Lily Potter. Of course, I could go on and on about Black's past, but we're all familiar with it, aren't we? Some of us a little more familiar than others, right ladies?_

Remus snorted.

_(Both Potter and Black refused to contribute quotes to this column. Ronald Weasley, who is best friends with Granger and Potter, and is an auror, made a statement similar to that made by his older brother.)_

"I love Ron, too," Hermione said.

"You are being awfully free with your affections, sweetheart."

"Jealous?" she teased.

He growled softly and nipped her earlobe.

"I actually gave her a great quote," Sirius cried. "It's not my fault the old bat has no imagination."

"At least she hasn't written about my eyes being filled with the horrors of my life," Harry said.

"There's still another page, Harry," Remus informed him.

_The auror's search was called off after all of the department's leads went cold. There had been no sign of Lupin, or Greyback, since April._

_"It was a dark time in my life," Granger said. "I hold no ill will towards Harry, Ron or anyone else at the Ministry. They did what they could, with the resources that they had, and I am grateful for that."_

"That is quite the politically-correct comment, love," Sirius said.

"I didn't mean a word of it – except for the part about Harry and Ron."

"Thank you, Hermione."

_In the end, she said, it was up to her._

"I did NOT say that!"

"But it was true, wasn't it?" Harry asked.

"Well … yes, but I wouldn't say that."

Sirius ducked his head so Hermione wouldn't see him roll his eyes. Remus kissed Hermione on the cheek and kept reading.

_Greyback does not possess magic of his own, but managed to obtain blood from both Lupin and Granger. He used their blood in a spell to hide his location. (I assume he took Lupin's blood while he had him in captivity. Granger refused to comment on how he could have obtained hers. It is likely it happened during the war, but I did not press for details.) Granger came across this magic while researching her own rescue attempt, which involved yours truly._

_Granger came to see me late one night in August with a proposition – write a column detailing her plans to find Greyback and rescue Lupin, and she will share their story with me and my lovely readers. I was more than willing to help her without that incentive, but I couldn't let my readers down. It turns out Greyback is a fan of my column. (I'm not surprised; my writing appeals to many.). Granger knew he would read of her mission and have so much anger that a Muggle-born witch would be so bold to go after him, that his anger would unveil his location._

_"I could not have done it without you," Granger said. "Thank you."_

"I must have missed that part of the interview," Remus teased Hermione.

"I never said that," she hissed.

_Granger did not offer many details on what happened after she caught up with Greyback; only that the two of them fought and she came out victorious. Hospital records, though, indicate that Granger received deep cuts on her back and abdomen, lost a significant amount of blood, and managed to drain not only all of her magic, but Lupin's magic, too._

_According to werewolf lore, once a wolf has consummated the relationship with his or her mate _– "Ha! Your sex life made _The Daily Prophet, _Moony!" – _the couple is bonded. This bond allowed Lupin to transfer his magic to Granger through his wand _– "Is she still talking about sex?" Sirius asked –_ which he left with Weasley._

_"It was a brilliant move on his part," Granger gushed, looking at Lupin with love in her eyes._

"She loves writing about what she sees in people's eyes," Harry said.

"In this case, it's true," Hermione replied, making both Harry and Sirius groan. She winked at Remus.

_It is not known what spells Granger used on Greyback. All information regarding her rescue mission has been sealed by the Ministry under Shacklebolt's orders. _

_"An investigation was conducted and Miss Granger was found to have dueled in self-defense," the Minister of Magic stated in a news release._

_Greyback was arrested. He was transferred to Azkaban where he was found dead 12 days later. The official report says he died of natural causes. No one has requested an investigation. According to the Ministry, the matter is closed._

_Lupin had been held hostage for more than three months. According to his hospital records _– "Who the hell gave those to her?" Remus yelled – _Lupin was admitted with several broken ribs and a broken hand. He was severely malnourished and dehydrated._

_Both Lupin and Granger were unconscious when they arrived at St. Mungo's. The couple remained unconscious for nearly a week, though hospital workers said the rest allowed both to heal. Both of them had since recovered all magical abilities. Lupin had to undergo physical therapy for several weeks to regain his physical abilities._

"Not all of them, eh Moony?" Sirius laughed.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Remus said quickly.

_The couple's stay at St. Mungo's wasn't all work. My sources tell me that during Granger's birthday celebration, which took place in the couple's hospital room because both were still patients, Lupin proposed to her in front of their friends. I admired the diamond on Granger's finger, who blushed _– "Ha!" Remus shouted triumphantly when Hermione sniffed – _and said the moment was better than anything she imagined._

"I know that's a lie," Remus whispered in Hermione's ear. "I've been on the receiving end of the scenarios dreamed up by that amazing brain of yours."

_Neither would divulge their wedding plans, but I've been told that the ceremony will take place this month. October is a lovely time for a wedding._

"Who blabbed that?" Hermione asked.

_According to Lupin, he and Granger became married when he claimed her, which he said did not happen until she was well past the legal age for a physical relationship._

"Son of a bitch," Remus groaned, laying his head on the kitchen table. Sirius and Harry tried not the laugh, but they were unsuccessful. Hermione responded by saying a spell that made both of their chairs disappear, causing the men to fall to the ground.

"Thank you for that," Remus told her.

"Anytime."

_"Until Wizengamot voted in July to eradicate the anti-werewolf legislation, it was not legal for werewolves to marry a witch or wizard," Lupin said. "My work with the Ministry to change this way of thinking was personal on several accounts, but my ultimate desire was to see the laws change so that I could marry Hermione in a wizard ceremony."_

_Granger, who lost her parents during the war, said she will be walked down the aisle by Arthur Weasley. _

_"Mr. Weasley – the entire Weasley family – has cared for me since my first year at Hogwarts. I miss my parents greatly, but I am very lucky to have an amazing surrogate family, with parents and siblings who love me and my fiancé, and want nothing more than for us to be happy. After all, isn't that what we all want, what we deserve, after so many years of fighting?"_

_(I couldn't have said it better myself, dear readers. Well, I probably could, but this isn't my story.)_

_The vote to repeal the anti-werewolf legislation was made while Lupin was still missing. Granger was present for the vote, which passed with overwhelming majority, but did not make a comment. However, when she was informed that Lupin would receive the Order of Merlin, Fist Class, posthumously, the curly-haired witch refused the designation on his behalf._

_"Remus Lupin is not dead," she was quoted as saying. "Until a body is found, you can take that honor and -"_

_She was dragged away by Black before she could finish her sentence. It has not been announced whether or not this designation will be extended now that Lupin is alive. When asked about it, Lupin said he is honored to be considered for something so prestigious, but that living in a world where werewolves have the same rights as men and women is the greatest reward he could receive._

_"That, and Hermione," he said. "The day she said she loved me is, and will forever be, the best day of my life."_

"Aw," Sirius and Harry said.

Hermione climbed in Remus lap and kissed him, making Harry duck behind the paper in embarrassment. Sirius watched; a smile on his face the entire time.

_There you have it, readers. Soul mates do exist. I hope you find yours._

_- Rita Skeeter_


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N – Yes, my attempt at being Rita was a lot nicer than she would ever be. Obviously, I am NOT J.K. Rowling. I'm also horrible at being mean. I was voted Nicest Person at my high school, if that tells you anything …**

**We're so close to the end of this story. I'm a bit sad about it. It was a lot of fun to write. Thank you for reading; here's hoping the last few chapters make the angsty parts worth it!**

**I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>"Stag night!"<p>

Sirius walked into the study wearing dark jeans, a crimson button-down shirt and black boots, holding his leather jacket in his hands. Tossing it on the back of an armchair, he plopped on the couch next to Remus and Hermione. "Were you going over the rules for tonight, love?" he teased.

She rolled her eyes. They had been napping. While both of them were well enough to leave St. Mungo's, they still tired easily. Afternoon naps were now part of their routine, though there were times Remus played fast and loose with the term nap. He argued, rather well, that as long as they were lying down, they were resting. That didn't explain the time he couldn't wait until they were in their bedroom and shagged her against the wall in the hallway, but she didn't have the energy afterwards to argue her point.

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she should there was a crash in the kitchen, followed by several loud and excited voices.

"Ron and the twins are here," Remus said, his eyes still closed, a small smile on his lips.

"As are Ginny, Luna and, judging from the crash, Rebecca," Sirius grinned. "Finally, Hermione, someone who is worse with floo powder than you."

She smacked him in the shoulder, sitting up as everyone strode into the room.

"Are you guys ready to -" George trailed off when he caught sight of Hermione sitting next to Remus.

"Please continue, George. What are your plans tonight?" Hermione asked sweetly.

He grinned and shook his head.

"Sirius is in charge tonight," Fred told her, his smile growing wider when Remus groaned. "We're just along for the ride."

"Harry!" Ron shouted. "Get your arse down here so we can go!"

Upstairs, a door slammed and heavy footsteps were heard on the stairs. "Kingsley just owled to say he'll meet us at -"

Like George, Harry stopped talking when he saw the women in the study.

Ginny grinned. "The Minister of Magic is going, too? You are either going to have a lot of fun or no fun whatsoever."

"Don't worry about us, baby sister," Fred said.

"What are you ladies doing tonight?" George asked.

"Nothing as exciting as what you have planned, I'm sure," Hermione said. "We have a few wedding things to take care of before Saturday."

Remus looked guilty. "You do? Do you need help? I'm sure we can -"

"No!" Sirius shouted. "You are not helping with anything. You bought the ring, you asked the question and we got our dress robes. The only thing you have left to do is celebrate your freedom with your mates and show up on time Saturday. Men who have women present, kiss them goodbye. Women, have fun doing whatever you're doing. Let's go!"

Ron gave Rebecca a quick kiss, as Harry did with Ginny. Remus, however, stood up, pulled Hermione close to him and feasted on her lips until the catcalls started.

"Have fun," she smirked.

"I'll try."

Watching the men traipse out the front door, Ginny held a finger up until she was sure they were gone.

"Right," she said, pulling two bottles of wine from her bag. "Rebecca, grab the glasses."

* * *

><p>"To Remus!"<p>

The men clinked their shot glasses and drank, each one thumping the small glass on the table triumphantly. Remus laughed at the glassy expression Harry had on his face. He really was like James. Prongs could never hold his liquor, either.

"I want to propose a toast," Kingsley said as he poured the next round.

Everyone jubilantly held up their glasses. They were at their third bar of the night, a Muggle establishment in south London where Kingsley felt comfortable letting go of his title to drink with the men who fought next to him during the war.

"When I first learned about Remus and Hermione, I wanted to kill him – not because I didn't approve of the match, but because that meant one of the brightest witches of our time was off the market for good."

"Hear, hear!" the twins shouted.

"Unfortunately for the rest of us single men, the two of you are perfectly matched. Anyone who has seen you together, and I doubt there's anyone at this table who hasn't accidentally walked in on you one time or another –"

"Seriously, you guys need to stop shagging on every available surface," Ron grumbled.

"I live with them," Harry said. "Surfaces aren't necessary."

"Really?" Fred sat forward, eyeing Harry with a curious gleam in his eye.

"Tell us more," George said.

Remus shook his head, the alcohol in his system making it difficult to be embarrassed.

"As I was saying," Kingsley continued, "the two of you were made for each other. I wish you nothing but the best and a lifetime of happiness! To Remus!"

"To Remus!"

Sirius swallowed the alcohol with a grimace. This was pathetic. It was barely midnight. It was too soon to feel this drunk. Tonight was not the night to act their age.

"All right, men; what's next?" he asked, ignoring the voice in his head the cautioned him to slow down. It sounded suspiciously like Hermione.

"I, unfortunately, need to leave," Kingsley said, grinning at the groans that followed his announcement. "I'm touched, but if I know Sirius, I think its best I'm not around for the second half of the evening."

Sirius tried to look innocent. He failed. Clasping a hand on Remus' shoulder, Kingsley sent him a wink and walked out of the bar.

"So … strip club?" Fred asked.

* * *

><p>"We are <em>not <em>going to a strip club!" Hermione yelled, covering her mouth when the guys at the table next to theirs looked over. Ginny winked at them.

"Why not?" Luna asked.

Hermione stared at the blond witch in surprise. "You want to go to a strip club, Luna?"

"Dancing is one of the purest forms of physical expression," Luna replied in her dreamy voice.

"Not the mention that they men are hot!" Ginny shouted gleefully as she finished her bright pink drink.

Hermione giggled and drained the rest of her appletini. She and her friends had planned on having a slumber party that night, something Hermione always wanted to do when she was younger but was difficult to pull off when your best friends were boys, but after a couple of bottles of wine, the idea of staying in seemed terrible. Instead, the girls' raided Hermione's closet (thank goodness for magical alteration spells) and decided to hit a few London hot spots.

Rebecca chose the first bar, saying their ladies night specials were among the best in the city. Smiling at the third round of drinks that appeared at their table as if by magic, Hermione chose the powder blue one.

"There are from the men at the bar," the waitress said in a patient voice she reserved for highly intoxicated customers.

"Oh, maybe we shouldn't drink them," Rebecca worried. "I mean, two of us are engaged."

Ginny snickered. "What? Having a drink a guy buys you is grounds for sex?"

The waitress rolled her eyes. "No."

"See? She agrees with me," Ginny said, giving the waitress a wide smile. "We didn't ask them to buy us drinks and we are not going to compromise ourselves as a thank you. And, if they try anything …" She made a move as if to pull her wand from her purse, but stopped when Hermione grabbed her arm and shook her head.

"Have fun, ladies," the waitress said, picking up the empty glasses.

Sighing, Rebecca picked up a drink. "Fine, we'll finish these and then we're going somewhere else."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because I don't think those guys are content to stay at the bar," she said.

"Strip club!" Ginny yelled.

* * *

><p>They didn't go to a strip club. Instead, they walked two blocks to another bar; this one less loud, less bright and less … well, everything … than the previous establishment. Hopping on to a bar stool, her red dress sliding further up her leg, Hermione ordered four strawberry mojitos for her friends, and then sat back to watch as Ginny and Rebecca debated the rest of the night's activities.<p>

"Do you think Remus would be upset if you went to a strip club?" Ginny asked her.

Hermione considered the question. She had no idea what he would say. The idea of her willingly walking into one was preposterous. "Honestly, I don't know if I'm comfortable watching men take off their clothes to music," she replied.

"What if there wasn't music?" Luna asked innocently.

Ginny snickered, her face turning as red as her hair. This got Rebecca laughing, which set Hermione off. Soon Luna was laughing, too, all four women struggling to remain seated on their stools. It was this site that greeted Remus and company as they walked inside.

"Are you kidding me?" Ron yelled, striding over to the bar. "I thought you weren't going out!"

Rebecca grinned. "Ron! Hi!"

"Hi. How drunk are you?"

"Compared to your sister and Hermione, I am 100 percent sober."

"Oh God," he groaned.

"Sweetheart."

Hermione turned in her chair. "Hey!" she cried, her face lighting up when she saw Remus. "Where did you come from?"

"I could ask you the same question," he replied with a patient smile.

"We got bored," she replied as if that solved everything. She leaned in to kiss Remus, but then sat back, a panicked look on her face.

"What?" he said.

"We're not supposed to see each other. It's bad luck!"

"That's the day of the wedding, sweetheart; not stag night."

"It's not good luck," Sirius grumbled. He could see his grand plans for the evening falling apart. Hermione was wasted. So was Ginny. There's no way Remus and Harry would let them wander London unaccompanied for the rest of the night.

"What's wrong, Sirius?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Ginny chimed in. "Why so serious?"

Her question set the girls into another round of laughter.

"I know you're not happy mate, but this isn't the worst thing in the world," George said, throwing an arm around Sirius' shoulder.

"Why's that?"

"Drunk Hermione is the best!" Fred cried. "Let's get a table and see how far things will go."

**OK, I know I'm dragging things out to the actual wedding, but I love writing Drunk Hermione scenes. Well, really drunk any character scenes. It's just fun!**


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N – National Novel Writing Month is coming up! Are any of you up to the challenge? I want to get this story finished and my real book finished so I can concentrate on that in November. There's never enough time!**

**I wanted to do one more fun, kind of silly chapter before wrapping thins up. I'm thinking 1 to 2 more chapters after this, then the epilogue. **

**We've got some action in this chapter. Please advert your eyes if you are underage.**

**As always, I own nothing related to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>Hermione giggled as she stole a sip of Remus' drink. It didn't taste like anything.<p>

"Remus? Remus!" she shouted, not realizing that she was sitting on his lap, therefore he was able to hear her perfectly, especially because her mouth was right by his ear.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he asked with an indulgent smile, ignoring the twins' snickers.

"Something is wrong with your drink. I can't taste anything."

"Oh no!" Ginny cried. "What if you drank too much and your taste buds are gone?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Is that possible? Remus, I don't have any taste buds!"

"Hermione, you have your taste buds," Sirius growled as he rolled his eyes. "You're drinking water."

She made a face. "Why?"

"I thought maybe you should stop with the alcohol," Remus said gently, brushing a few curls from Hermione's flushed face. She looked at him as if he was crazy. "Apparently that was a stupid idea," he continued.

"It was! This is your stag night! We need to do something!"

"We were doing something," Sirius muttered, staring at his own empty glass with a dark look. "Then we ran into you and your friends."

Hermione looked heartbroken. "You're not having fun, are you?" Sliding off Remus' lap, she crawled over Fred to plop onto Sirius' lap. Looping her arms around his neck, she leaned forward to whisper so Remus wouldn't hear. "What did you want to do tonight?"

Remus shook his head. She was still yelling. Sirius shrugged.

"Come on! Don't be a baby. What did you do for James' stag night?"

Harry looked interested.

"We went to a strip club," Sirius said.

"Tell them what happened at the strip club, Padfoot," Remus grinned.

Sirius sighed is resignation. "I accidentally gave Lily's engagement ring to one of the dancers."

Half of the table – the male side – laughed hysterically. The female side gasped. Well, not Luna. She was leaning against George, sound asleep. He had his arm around her to keep her from sliding off the chair. Hermione made a mental note to ask about that later and then promptly forgot it. "What did you do?"

"We waited until the club closed and I got the ring back," Sirius mumbled.

Hermione snickered. Then she checked her hand to make sure she was still wearing her engagement ring.

"You're fine, love," Sirius told her.

"Good. I wanted to be sure before we go."

"Where are we going?" Ron muttered from his facedown position at the table.

"To a strip club."

"What?" Remus asked.

"Really?" Sirius perked up.

"Yay!" Ginny exclaimed.

"We're not going to a guy strip club, Ginny," Hermione explained. "We're going to a girl one. For the guys. For Remus. It's his stag night, after all."

"Sweetheart," Remus said, wondering how mad Sirius would be if he took Hermione home and put her to bed. "I don't want to go to a strip club."

"I don't care," she said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. "We're not doing it for you; we're doing it for Sirius."

Granted, she was drunk and there were times he had trouble following sober Hermione's train of thought, but he was utterly confused. "You just said we were doing this for me."

"Don't be selfish, Remus," she told him.

"But it's my stag night."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively in the air, nearly falling off Sirius' lap in the process. "That's not the point," she said.

"It kind of is."

Fred watched the back-and-forth with a dopey grin on his face. He was having the best time and they had yet to step foot in a strip club.

Hermione leaned close to Sirius again. "You'll make sure he has fun when we get there, right?"

"Absolutely," he smirked.

"OK." She got to her feet, wobbled for a second, and took a few tentative steps.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Remus asked.

"I need to visit the ladies room. I'll be back …" she broke off, confused. "Where am I going?"

Sighing, Remus got to his feet and took Hermione's hand. "I'm walking her to the loo. When I get back, I expect all of you to have a realistic plan in place."

"Rebecca, get out your phone a find a strip club!" Hermione cried.

"On it!"

Grasping Remus' hand, Hermione followed him to the back of the bar, admiring how his shirt pulled across his back. Most people wouldn't look at him and imagine how amazing he looked unclothed, but she knew. He was long, he was lean and he had a strength to him no other man could match. She loved feeling his muscles clench when he was on top of her, moving inside her … "You are so sexy!" she yelled, not realizing how many people looked up and smiled. Remus swept Hermione into his arms to hurry her along.

"You are drunk, my love."

"I know! It's fun! We should do this more often! Do you want to do this more often?"

Remus shook his head, but he was smiling. At least she was a happy drunk. Luckily, the restroom was single stall. Not even hesitating, Remus walked inside, setting Hermione down gently. She smiled at him, her eyes glassy.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"No. I really love you. Like if you told me someone else was your mate, I would be sad and cry and then plot their death."

Remus laughed. "I know you would, sweetheart. It's frightening. Now, we're in the loo. Why don't you go to the stall, do what you need to do, and we can leave."

"I can't go while you're in here!"

He nodded. "I'll wait in the hall, but I'm keeping the door unlocked just in case."

Shutting the door, he leaned against the doorway in the dark hallway, ignoring the looks a few people gave him as they walked by.

"Hey, dude; is that bird your girlfriend?"

Remus recognized the man as one of the people who overheard Hermione minutes before.

"She's my fiancée."

"A little young for you, isn't she?"

Remus raised an eyebrow. "And your point would be?"

"No point; just an observation." He leaned against the opposite wall. "Are you sure you have what it takes to keep her happy for the next 50 years?"

Remus had a quick mental image of Hermione in their bed, curls spread over the pillow, her face flushed as she gripped his arms, begging him to move faster, deeper. He smirked. "Pretty sure."

"Why is that?" the man asked.

The door swung open suddenly. Remus stumbled slightly, but caught himself, turning to face an angry Hermione. "Because he is fucking amazing in bed!" she yelled, grabbing Remus by the arm and pulling him in the bathroom. Slamming the door closed, she locked it, pushed Remus against it and jumped in his arms, yanking his head down so she could devour his lips.

"Hermione -"

"Shut up," she demanded. "I want you right here, right now, hard and fast. Make me scream so everyone hears us."

"Hermione -"

"Now!" she yelled, taking his bottom lip between her teeth and biting. Hard.

He snapped. Their lips crashed violently. He grasped the bottom of her dress and pulled it up, taking her knickers down at the same time. "Off," he commanded. "Take them off."

She slid down his body and did what he said, laughing when he took them from her and stuck them in his pocket.

"To the sink," he told her, eyes dark with lust. She did what he said, gasping when he spun her around so she was against his chest. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he tangled the other in her hair, tugging until she was staring at their reflection in the mirror. "What do you see, Hermione?" he asked, kissing the side of her neck, running his tongue along her tendons.

"I see you and me," she responded, her voice hitched in excitement.

"Wrong. I see the most beautiful, desirable and sexy woman in the world," he whispered, his tongue tracing the outline of her ear. "I see a woman who is about to be fucked. Hard."

She hissed as his arm left her waist to go under her dress, his fingers immediately finding her. "You are so wet, baby."

She moaned, her head falling back to her shoulder.

"What do you want?"

She raised her arms to wrap them around his neck, twisting her head so she could kiss him, but he pulled back before their lips could touch. "No," he said. "I asked you a question. What do you want?"

She grinned. "I already told you. I want you here. Now. Hard. Fast."

He hissed her, his fingers still driving her crazy while his other hand unbuttoned his jeans and undid his zipper. "Look at us," he demanded. "Watch. I want you to see what you look like when I take you."

"Remus …"

"Do it," he said, his feet kicking her legs further apart. Seconds later, he slid inside her. She moaned loudly. He set a brutal pace, his fingers never leaving her wet folds as he moved in and out. She watched, fascinated, as her skin became flushed, her eyes dark with desire. His face was dark, eyes hooded, as he moved. "I'm not going to last long," he groaned, his fingers plucking the tight bundle of nerves, smiling wickedly when she gasped. "Neither are you."

It was barely a minute before she screamed his name, reveling in his shout of release seconds later. Leaning forward, his hands on top of hers on the counter, he kissed the top of her head and rested his forehead against her curls. "Love you," he whispered.

"I bet you say that to all the girls you shag in the bathroom," she giggled.

Pulling out of her, he smacked her hip lightly. "Cheeky witch."

He said the spell to clean them up and both adjusted their clothing before opening the bathroom door. The man was still there, eyes wide. Hermione took Remus' hand and sent the guy a dazzling smile before pulling him back to their table.

"What took you so long?" Harry demanded.

"Long line," Hermione said briskly. She was suddenly filled with energy. Picking up Remus' water and draining it in one swallow. "Did you find a place, Rebecca?"

"I did."

"Let's go," Hermione said, tugging Remus outside.

"Are you serious about this?" he asked.

"Very much so … except for the part when I go with you."

"Huh?"

She smiled as she leaned forward to give him a soft kiss. "You need to have a real stag night, Remus. Sirius needs to be the one to do this for you. It would make him happy."

"What are you going to do?"

"We're going to go to Rebecca's. If we sober up, we'll apparate home. If not, I'll stay at her place until morning."

"I'll miss you," he said.

She laughed and whispered in his ear, "That's what the bathroom sex was for."

Unfortunately, her whisper was still more like a shout. Remus glared at Sirius, Fred, and George, who were too busy smirking to be concerned. Harry and Ron just looked embarrassed.

Stepping back, she took Luna's hand from George and joined Rebecca and Ginny on the sidewalk.

"Do you know where you're going?" Rebecca asked.

"Yep!" Fred shouted.

"Have fun!" Hermione yelled.

Ginny waved, too, but half-heartedly. "How come they get to have all the fun?" she grumbled as Rebecca hailed a cab. Climbing in the passenger seat, she caught Rebecca's eye as she, Ginny and Luna settled in the back.

"Because we're going to our own strip club," she announced, giving the cab driver the address for the club in London's west end, repeating it after Ginny's squeal of excitement drowned out her voice the first time.


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N – It's wedding time!**

**I still don't own the Harry Potter characters. If I did, Remus would be alive. And somehow it would be OK for Hermione to be married to him and Sirius and Fred and George.**

* * *

><p>"I still have glitter in my hair!" Hermione cried, running into Ginny's room. "It's been two days! How is that even possible?"<p>

Ginny snickered. "Ask Ramone."

"Who's Ramone?" Molly Weasley asked.

"No one," Hermione, Ginny and Rebecca answered quickly, the three of them exchanging goofy grins which Molly caught, but wisely chose not to comment on. After all, today was Hermione's wedding day.

"All right, the boys are in family room, so Hermione needs to stay in here until the ceremony begins. Ginny, Rebecca, why don't you help her with her hair and makeup before your get dressed? Hermione, dearest, how are you? Do you need something to eat? You barely had any lunch."

Hermione shook her head. She was too excited to eat. In less than two hours, she would be Hermione Granger-Lupin. She wanted to jump up and down in excitement. Or nerves. She paused as her stomach took a dip. Yes, definitely nerves. She wondered how Remus was doing. She spent the night at the Burrow, so she hadn't seen him since yesterday.

_"Why can't you sleep here tonight, in our own bed?" he asked as she packed her overnight bag._

_"Because I want our wedding night to be special," she replied, regretting her decision to accept Molly's offer to spend the night in her old room. It seemed like a great idea at the time, but the thought of spending a night without Remus … _

_"I'll make it special," he promised a wicked gleam in his eye._

_"I know you will, but ...," she sighed. There was a reason she was doing this, right? "We're only going to get married once, Remus. Don't you want to wake up tomorrow knowing that's the last time you'll wake up in our bed alone?"_

_"No," he grumbled._

_"You're pouting again," she called from the bathroom._

_"I don't sleep well when you're not with me," he told her._

_She understood that. She didn't sleep well without him, either – not that she expected to sleep at all tonight. Molly was a whirlwind of last-minute wedding preparations._

_Closing her bag, Hermione tapped her wand on it to shrink it so she could put it in her pocket. Taking Remus' face in her hands, she kissed him lightly, rubbing her nose against his._

_"I'll see you at 2 p.m. tomorrow," she promised. "I'll be the one in the white gown."_

_He sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist and breathing in her scent. "I'll be the one in the black dress robes trying not to attack you."_

She hoped Sirius was keeping him calm.

* * *

><p>Remus watched his friend pace back and forth. He was going to wear a path in the carpet if he didn't stop soon. "Calm down, Padfoot."<p>

"I am calm," he replied in a slightly panicked voice. "I am the poster boy of calm. Don't I look calm?"

Remus tilted his head. Sirius had been fine all morning; cheerful, talkative. The moment he finished getting ready, though, it was like a curtain had been drawn on his good mood. He was tense; pensive. "Shouldn't I be the one who's nervous?"

Sirius stopped. "Yeah. Why aren't you?"

Remus smiled. "Because it's Hermione."

Sirius sighed and sat next to Remus on the couch.

"What?" Remus asked.

"I've been thinking ... " he started, not looking at Remus. "Maybe you two should find a place of your own."

Remus was not expecting that. "You don't want to live with us anymore?"

"No! You know me; the more, the merrier, but she's going to be your wife," he said with a shrug. "You don't want your wife to share a house with your best friend and his godson."

"It's not a traditional arrangement, I'll give you that, but my best friend happens to be one of her favorite people and his godson is her best friend. I don't think we'll have a problem."

"What about kids?"

Remus grinned. Kids. "What about them?"

"Aren't you going to want to start a family?"

"Eventually," he replied, though the thought did give him pause. The image of Hermione pregnant, swollen with his child, is one he just started allowing himself to imagine. She would be an amazing mother.

"So?"

"So you're saying we can't raise them at Grimmauld Place? You and Hermione cleared the house of all Dark Magic," Remus reminded his friend. "She still won't allow you to buy power tools and there's plenty of space to build a nursery or two."

Sirius smiled, his body relaxing for the first time since he put on his dress robes. "The two of you really do talk through everything."

"She's mine. I'm hers."

Sirius grinned. "Made for each other."

* * *

><p>The knock on the door was cautious.<p>

"Who is it?" Ginny called.

"It's us," Harry answered.

Ginny opened the door a crack, smiling at Harry and Ron. "What can I do for you?"

"Can we come in, please?" Ron asked. "We want to talk to Hermione before the ceremony."

Opening the door wide, she watched their faces as they took in the sight of Hermione in her wedding dress. The design was simple – made of white taffeta, it was strapless and sleeveless, with a tight bodice that flowed A-line style to the floor. Hermione chose to wear her hair loose, flowing down her back in loose curls. Her only jewelry was her engagement ring.

"You look amazing," Harry said. Ron simply nodded.

Hermione grinned. "I feel amazing. How's Remus? Have you seen him? Is he nervous?"

"He's completely relaxed. Everyone else is running around like crazy and he's watching it all with an amused expression," Ron told her.

She smiled. That was her Remus; the calm in the storm.

"I did see him eating a chocolate bar, though," he added.

Now _that _was her Remus.

"We ... we kind of wanted to hang out before we had to go outside, if that's all right," Harry said.

Hermione grinned. She knew what he was trying to say. Everything was going to change in a little bit. Yes, she and Remus had been together for more than a year, but there's a difference between being together and being husband and wife. Ginny and Rebecca smiled at the three friends before leaving the room.

"We'll be back to kick you out in a little bit," Ginny promised.

The trio jumped on the bed. Hermione's dress didn't allow her to sit the way she usually did, on her back, legs against the headboard, so Harry sat that way while she leaned against the headboard, her legs straight out. Ron, as usual, flopped on the foot of the bed.

"Does this position make you smarter?" Harry asked. "I always wondered that."

Hermione blushed. "I read somewhere once that stretching your legs would help with growth spurts; you know, ease the muscle aches."

"But you're short," Ron said, winking at the girl he once thought he'd marry. The idea seemed ludicrous now. He couldn't imagine Hermione with anyone other than Remus.

"Obviously I never had a growth spurt great enough where my muscles ached," she sighed.

"I can't believe you're getting married," Ron said.

"You'll be next," she reminded him.

"I know," he said, paling slightly. "I'm terrified. I'm excited, but terrified. Does that make sense?"

"Absolutely," Harry said, picking up Hermione's hand to hold it in his. "So ... we're still going to hang out and stuff, right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. He was such a worrier and he hated change. He was so much like Sirius at times. "Harry, we live in the same house."

"I know, but you'll be _married_."

"Right. Married; not dead. And married to Remus, who you love."

"He is pretty cool," Ron muttered. "Scary as hell when he's mad, but pretty cool. He'll be good for you. You'll be good for him."

"Just ... just try to have less sex around the house, OK?" Harry asked. "You'll be married now. Have some dignity."

Hermione pushed his feet off the headboard, laughing when he fell to the floor.

* * *

><p>Remus and Sirius looked up at the ceiling after the loud thump. Arthur stood up with a smile.<p>

"That, gentlemen, is my cue."

"Places, everyone!" Molly cried, running into the room, practically pushing people out of the house. She stopped rushing when she felt a hand on her arm. "Remus?"

"May I escort you to your seat?" he asked.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, as he led her outside. The backyard was beautiful, the trees of the orchard setting the perfect backdrop of reds, yellows and oranges. A clear path of green grass led served as the aisle, with white chairs on either side holding the friends Remus and Hermione loved like family. Leading Molly to the mother-of-the-bride seat, he grinned when she kissed his cheek. Taking his place to the right of Kingsley, who agreed to be the Ministry official performing the ceremony, he watched the house and waited for Hermione to appear.

* * *

><p>"Ready?" Arthur asked holding out an arm.<p>

Hermione thought she'd be nervous. She waited all day for a wave of panic to crash over her, but it never did. She was excited. She was anxious. She really wanted to see Remus, to take his hand in hers and look into his deep brown eyes, but she wasn't nervous. This was Remus. _Remus. _He was hers, she was his. Life may be full on uncertainties, but she will never be uncertain about her love for him.

"Ready," she replied, linking her arm through Arthur's. "Thank you for giving me away."

"I kind of hate having to let you go," he admitted, tears welling up in his eyes.

She kissed his cheek. "I'll always be your girl."

Patting her hand, he smiled. She would always be part of their family. And he'd have another son. And, someday - hopefully soon - grandchildren. Squeezing her hand one more time, they stood by the door. Arthur looked at Hermione. She smiled at him, took a deep breath, and waited for it to open.

* * *

><p>His breath caught when he saw her. She was ... she was ... He didn't have the words. She looked radiant. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, would ever see. She caught his eye as soon as she stepped outside, ignoring everyone else as she slowly made her way to him, a small smile on her lips.<p>

"Who approves this union?" Kingsley asked, his commanding voice echoing throughout the yard.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Her mother and I."

After Kingsley nodded his assent, Arthur kissed Hermione on the cheek, shook Remus' hand and hurried to his seat. Gripping Molly's hand in his, he watched as Kingsley performed the bonding ceremony, the magical tie bringing two people together for eternity. Remus' voice was clear and strong as he promised to love and cherish Hermione for the rest of her life. Hermione's own voice was steady as she made the same vow. Neither one trembled as they placed their wedding bands on each other's fingers; though there was a chuckle when Remus leaned in to kiss Hermione after his ring was on her hand.

"Moony! He didn't get to that part yet!" Sirius laughed.

Staring into Hermione's eyes, Remus couldn't keep the grin off of his face.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," Kingsley announced. "Now, Remus, you may kiss your bride."

He moved forward, his lips a whisper from hers when he stopped. "I love you."

Lacing her fingers behind his neck, she stood on her tiptoes. "I love you, too. Kiss me, Mr. Lupin."

"Anything you want, Mrs. Granger-Lupin."


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N – Last chapter. I'm sad. It's a long one. I had trouble letting go. If you need me, I'll be wallowing for a day or two.**

**As always, Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just like to give her characters happy endings.**

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><p><strong><em>18 months later<em>**

Remus walked into the kitchen, a quizzical, yet thoughtful look on his face. He nodded to Sirius, who was working his way through a stack of chocolate chip pancakes. The fact that he sat at the table with tea, not pancakes, made Sirius frown.

"Hermione made these," he said.

Remus nodded.

"She left some for you."

"Fine."

"She also said she's going to spend the day searching for nargles with Luna and we're on our own for supper."

"Right."

Sirius balled up his napkin and threw it at Remus' face.

"What was that for?" he asked, batting it away.

"'Cause its fun and it got a reaction out of you," Sirius replied, pushing his plate away. Leaning back in his chair, he studied his friend. Marriage has been good for him. His eyes had lost their wariness; his face was no longer strained. Even his monthly transformations seemed to go smoother with Hermione by Moony's side.

Of course, the treatment she gave him afterwards – a warm bath, a hot meal and a long massage – could have something to do with that, too.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked.

Remus sighed. "Nothing. I think."

"That's not vague."

"Sorry, Padfoot."

"Don't be sorry; talk to me."

Remus sipped his tea. "I don't know. Something seems … off."

"Off?"

He shrugged, not knowing how else to describe the feeling that had plagued him since he opened his eyes that morning. "There's a new scent in the house. I can't place it."

Sirius sat up. His sense of smell wasn't as keen as Remus', but his years as an animagus weren't a total waste. He sniffed carefully. Chocolate. Mint. The lemon cleaner Hermione preferred. Everything was normal. "I don't smell anything."

Remus nodded. "That's what's bothering me. It comes and goes."

"Where'd you first notice it?"

"My bedroom."

"Maybe Hermione changed shampoos. Soap. Perfume. Laundry detergent. Candles."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You can name every item in the house, Padfoot; it's not something like that. It's deeper."

"Ask her," he said, a bit bored with the conversation. He wondered if Remus would mind if he helped himself to his pancakes warming on the stove.

"I don't want her to worry."

Now it was Sirius' turn to roll his eyes. Hermione wasn't a worrier. That was Remus. She was a planner, a doer. If something was wrong, she fixed it. If you pissed her off, she fixed you. She was the person you wanted in your corner and the one you did not want to anger.

Not that he didn't enjoy getting her riled up. That's what friends do.

Deciding he could live without the pancakes, Sirius pushed away from the table, sending his dishes to the sink with the wave of his wand. "Well, while you sit here and play detective, I'm off. See you later?"

Remus nodded, still looking pensive. Shaking his head, Sirius headed upstairs to get dressed and, out of curiosity only; he wasn't _worried_, walked up the extra flight of stairs to peek into Remus' and Hermione's bedroom. Poking his head in, he took a deep breath and snorted.

It smelled like sex.

"Randy newlyweds," he smirked.

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><p>Hermione sighed, the swaying of the hammock nearly putting her to sleep. It was ridiculous, really. It was barely 10 a.m. and she was exhausted. She supposed it made sense. Remus insisted they celebrate their 18 month wedding anniversary the same way they celebrated their wedding night. The fact that he made her do that for monthly anniversaries one through 17 … no wonder she was tired.<p>

Luckily, it was Friday. She only worked at the Ministry on Tuesdays and Thursdays, popping in to Fred and George's store on Mondays and Wednesdays. She was pleased Remus still wanted to work in the Ministry's Care and Regulation of Magical Creatures Division, and was willing to help her husband whenever she could, but she also liked the challenge working with the twins gave her.

Plus, testing some of their inventions on Sirius kept life interesting.

"Napping?"

Opening her eyes, Hermione smiled up at Remus.

"Have I thanked you for this?" she asked, gesturing to the hammock.

"Only a million times since last Christmas," he replied, helping her up so he could lay down with her on top of him.

"It's the perfect present," she mumbled, snuggling closer.

"Despite the sex swing jokes?" Remus chuckled, remembering the horrified look on Molly's face.

"I hate Fred and George."

"Liar."

She didn't reply. He didn't expect her to. He knew he should go, at least put in an appearance at work, but this felt so right. It was a beautiful spring morning. There would be rain later; he could smell it, but for now …

He paused and sniffed again. There it was. That smell. He opened his eyes and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The flowers that had blossomed were scents he was familiar with. No, it wasn't coming from outdoors.

Hermione sighed, letting out a small puff of breath in her sleep. The scent hit him hard.

It was her. It was coming from her.

His eyes grew wide.

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><p>"She's <em>what<em>?"

"Pregnant."

Sirius sat on the sofa. Hard. He stared at Remus. He had a goofy smile on his face and his eyes were dazed. He sniffed to make sure he wasn't drunk, but there wasn't a drop of liquor on the man's breath. "Did she tell you?"

He shook his head. "She doesn't know."

"Wait; how is that possible? Women always know first."

"Not when their husband is a werewolf. I could smell him. Or her."

Sirius sat back, amazed. He thought he knew everything there was to know about Moony, but apparently the old werewolf had a few more tricks up his sleeve. "I didn't even know you were trying."

"This wasn't deliberate. I mean, it wasn't a mistake, but we didn't plan it, either. Hermione's exact words were 'If it's meant to be, it will be.'"

"When did she say that?"

"Last night."

"And you knocked her up already? Well done!"

Remus rolled his eyes, but he did feel oddly proud of himself. His Hermione, his wife, his _mate_, was pregnant. A baby. Was it a boy? A girl? Secretly, he wished for a boy, not that we wouldn't adore a daughter, but if she was born with her mother's looks, he'd have to spend the rest of his years fighting off admirers. He might need to lean on Harry a bit for that. An auror was sure to chase away potential suitors.

He sat on the couch next to Sirius. His heart felt full. Here he was, 42-years-old, and he had everything he ever wanted: the woman who completed him and, now, a child.

"Are you going to tell her?"

Remus looked over. "I … I'm not sure. Would you want to know?"

"If I was having your baby?" Sirius laughed. "I think I'd want to know a lot of things first."

Remus snorted, bumping his shoulder into his friend's.

"Honestly, though … I wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Isn't this a woman thing? They take the test, they go to the healer and then they make the announcement. Do you really want to take that from her?"

Remus sighed. "No, but …" Sirius was right. He knew that, but how long would Hermione wait to take the test. This was the first day of her pregnancy. Would it be another week, maybe a month, before she realized something was different? Would he be able to keep quiet that entire time? She knew when he was keeping something from her. The bind that tied them together made keeping secrets damn near impossible.

She complained about it all the time.

"I'll help," Sirius announced.

"That can't be good."

"No, really. She's looking tired from Moony junior. I'll plant the idea in her head to see a healer. She'll come back, give you the news, you'll be happy and we can start planning the nursery."

Remus nodded thoughtfully. It wasn't the worst plan Sirius ever had. He absently rubbed the tattoo he got on his 41st birthday, Hermione's initials' made to resemble a cloud floating in front of the full moon. She loved it. She loved lying on his chest and tracing it with her fingers, her tongue.

Yes, Sirius' ideas were getting better with time.

"All right, let's give it a go."

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><p>"Are you all right, love? You look a bit peaked."<p>

Hermione looked up. They were having dinner with their extended family at the Burrow. She thought she was hiding her tiredness well, but apparently Sirius could tell she was lacking energy. It was odd that Remus didn't comment. Of course, the last time he told her she looked tired, she may have hexed him – _a light hex _– and banished him to the library until she calmed down.

The full moons sometimes made her a bit anxious.

Molly Weasley studied Hermione. She did look pale. Standing up, she circled the large table to press the back of her palm against Hermione's forehead. "You're not warm, but maybe you should see a healer … just in case."

Hermione shuddered. She hated healers. The five weeks she and Remus spent at St. Mungo's were enough to last her a lifetime.

"There's a nasty flu going around," Arthur chimed in, sending a subtle wink in Sirius' direction.

Luna looked up from her dessert, her dreamy eyes focusing on the conversation. "I have a home remedy that could help," she started.

"Oh!" Molly said, interrupting the tiny witch and smiling at her indulgently. She never would have imagined her George and Luna would make such an enchanting couple, but they did. In fact, their wedding was next month. Now, if only she could get Fred to settle down. "Luna, sweetheart, that's so nice, but Hermione should probably see a healer this time, at least to get a tonic." She turned to Hermione, her face firm. "Promise me."

Hermione looked at Remus for help, but he was smiling at Molly. "That's a good idea. We'll make an appointment first thing tomorrow."

"Suck up," she muttered quietly.

"In-laws," he whispered back, kissing her on the cheek.

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><p>"You do not have the flu, Mrs. Granger-Lupin."<p>

Hermione sat up, the movement making her sway just a bit. All right, something was off with her; she'd admit that. "Is it something else? I was hit with the crucio curse a few years ago. Are there long-term effects?"

The healer smiled. "Nothing that dire," she said. "You're pregnant."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "I'm what?"

"Pregnant. Nearly a week along, according to the diagnostics, but the baby will be born in less than nine months. I'm not quite sure why …" the healer looked down at her chart in confusion.

"My husband is a werewolf," Hermione murmured.

"Oh! Well, that explains it. You'll be welcoming your bundle of joy in –"

"Seven months."

"Correct. I'll want to see you again in a month, but for now I'll gather some information for you to take home and review. We'll be able to do a spell at the next appointment to determine the baby's gender, if you and your husband wish to know it."

Hermione nodded, but she wasn't really listening. A baby. Remus' baby. A little girl. Or maybe a boy. Either one, really, as long as they had their father's sandy hair and warm brown eyes. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. She wanted Remus. He should be here. She needed to tell him. Now.

"Mrs. Granger-Lupin?"

She shook herself out of her thoughts. "Sorry! I'm sorry, I just …"

The healer smiled. She was used to it. "Do you have any questions?"

"Is he, or she, OK?"

"Everything looks fine. Baby is perfect. Mum is perfect."

Hermione smiled. Mum.

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><p>"Can pregnant women floo?"<p>

Sirius looked up from the chessboard. He tried to remember how Lily traveled when she was pregnant. Or Fleur. Or Ginny. Wait, Ginny. She was pregnant. She used the floo all the time. "Yes," he replied. "It's perfectly safe."

They heard something fall in the kitchen.

"Or, you know, it's safe for any woman who isn't Hermione."

Remus pushed back from the table to check on his wife, but Sirius gestured for him to sit back down. Hermione's less-than-graceful floo exits were common. If he went rushing into the kitchen, she'd know he knew something.

Studying the chessboard – it was a complete scam, neither one of them was really playing – Remus waited for Hermione to walk into the study. His heart was pounding.

"Hello!?"

"In here!" he called, avoiding Sirius' eyes.

Hermione stopped in the hall for a second. She loved Sirius, she did, but she didn't want him to be there for this announcement. She needed to tell Remus first, just the two of them, and then they could tell Sirius. He'd probably start talking about nursery plans. And ask for a power saw. Shaking her head, knowing the argument she'd be having later that night, she walked into the study, smiling at her husband frowning at the chessboard. "Hi my love."

"Hey," Sirius answered.

Chuckling, she wrapped an arm around Remus' shoulders and kissed his cheek. "Hello my other love."

He leaned back, eyes studying her. "How was the healer? Are you OK?"

"Fine and yes."

He nodded and turned back to the game, not trusting himself to keep looking at her.

"Um … " She perched on the arm of his chair, her fingers slowly running through his hair, Hermione watched as the two men continued to play, Sirius chuckling when Remus lost another piece. "Can you come upstairs, Remus? Please?"

"Now?" Sirius asked. "We'll be finished in a bit."

Hermione sighed. She didn't want her husband to panic, but she couldn't wait, either. Smiling, she leaned forward and kissed Remus lightly on the ear. "Please?" she whispered, nibbling lightly on his lobe the way he liked it. "I really _need _you."

Feeling confident he'd follow, she stood up and left the study. Remus watched her walk away, and then turned to Sirius.

"Go," he said with an exasperated sigh. "Get great news. Have sex. Don't think about me."

"Believe me," Remus said, pushing back his chair. "I won't."

Taking the stairs two at a time, Remus reached their bedroom shortly after Hermione. She turned to smile at him as he walked in, only slightly out of breath. Striding to his wife, he pulled her to him and kissed her, their tongues meeting in a dance they've perfected. Running his hands down her back, he settled his hands on her hips as he walked forward, forcing her to go back, not stopping until the backs of her knees hit the bed.

"Remus?"

"Hmm?"

"I need to tell you something."

He lifted his head. For a second, he had forgotten her news. Their news. That's what happened whenever he touched her. Sitting on the bed, he pulled her onto his lap, cradling her. "Are you sure everything is OK?"

She nodded, unable to keep the smile off of her face. "Remember our conversation the other night, about not saying the contraceptive spell, and that if we are meant to have a baby, we'll have a baby."

He nodded.

"We're having a baby!"

She watched as his eyes grew wide, his moth dropping open in shock. "We're what?"

She watched his face, her eyes narrowing slightly. She knew his face almost as well as she knew her own. This was not the face of someone caught off guard. She pushed herself off his lap. "You knew!"

He stood up. "Knew what? Oh wow – I can't believe this!"

He moved to hug her, but she put a hand out, stopping him in his tracks. "Remus John Lupin, I am only going to ask this once. Did you know I was pregnant?"

He sighed. He wasn't going to lie. He couldn't. "Yes," he told her, wincing slightly.

"Since when?"

"Um … the first day," he mumbled.

Her eyes grew wide. "You knew _then_?"

He felt horrible. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, but I could smell him. Or her. I woke up and something was different. There was a new scent in the house and it took me awhile to figure out it was coming from you. It was our child growing inside you."

She stared at him. He knew before she did.

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. I wanted to tell you, or have you tell me. Sweetheart … Hermione, please don't be mad. You can tell everyone else. I won't say a word," he promised, taking her hands in his. "Baby, please. This is the greatest news you could ever give me. Please be happy."

She looked at him. He looked panic, like he was afraid something that was out of his control would ruin this moment. God, she loved this man. "I am happy," she told him squeezing his hands. "Oh, Remus, I'm thrilled! We're going to have a baby! I just wish you would have told me so you could have gone to the healer, too. I wanted you to get the news when I did! Or, you know, pretend to get the news when I did."

"Next time," he promised.

She stopped at that. Next time? Looking at her husband, her mate, she laughed. Why not? Launching herself at him, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, giggling as he fell back on the bed.

"Are you OK? Is the baby OK?"

She ran her hands down his anxious face. "Is this what I have to look forward to for the next seven months?"

"Probably," he grinned. Rolling so she was on her back, he propped himself on one arm and smiled at her, brushing back a few curls from her face before sliding his hand down her body to rest on her still-flat stomach. The smile on his face was giddy. Loving. Reverent. "We're having a baby. A little you."

"Or a little you."

Leaning down, he kissed her stomach. "Hi baby. It's daddy. I love you." He rested his head against her stomach, closed his eyes and breathed in the scent that was all her and the life they created together. Opening his eyes, he smiled at the woman who was watching him.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly as he struggled for composure. "Thank you for being mine."

She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair before linking them with his on her stomach. "Always."

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><p><strong>We've reached the end. I have loved writing about Hermione and Remus. I hope you've loved reading about them.<strong>

**I didn't write the scene where they tell Sirius, but I picture him (badly) pretending not to know and yelling something like "That is brand new information" like Phoebe from Friends. Oh, Sirius. I may need to write a Hermione/Sirius story someday, but right now it would feel like she's cheating on Remus.**

**I may do a one-shot or companion piece to "Get Busy Living," but I won't dive into another long story until after NaNoWriMo. It will feature Hermione and the twins. I already have some ideas going through my head.**

**As always, thank you for the support, reviews, critiques, and general awesomeness! **


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